Dead Man's Fantasy
by Soleneus
Summary: His name is Balthier, the Legendary Sky Pirate. But he's also called Saul in private. Why is this? The answers will come, but in the middle of an event that will reshape Ivalice, by the hands of six people. One thief and his childhood friend. A Princess thought dead, and knight responsible for her father's death. Two Sky Pirates, a skilled viera and a hume with two names.
1. Thieves, Pirates and Rebels

It was dark over the Royal Palace of Rabanastre. The Palace was lit up in celebration for the new Lord Consul, Vayne Solidor, and most of the halls bore only token patrols by the grey-armored soldiers of the Archadian Empire.

A large, slim shape darted over the high walls of the Palace, dipping and swooping through the walls, hugging the walls to avoid being seen. The vehicle was skillfully piloted by a woman, her amber eyes narrowed in the face of the wind as they traveled, her partner riding directly behind her, one arm wrapped around her stomach.

"You removed that seat just to get closer to me, didn't you?" She asked lowly, her rich accent filtering back to her partner, who smiled rakishly and leaned forward, kissing her cheek.

"My dear, you know me too well," He replied, his voice deep, also accented in way that came across and cultured and roguish at the same time. "You have to admit, the bike handles better without the added weight."

His partner smirked in agreement, her hands deftly manipulating the controls as they zipped through an empty courtyard, maneuvering around a fountain to avoid a small patrol. The woman twisted the bike and locked the brake, sliding to a halt in the hall. The man jumped from the hovercraft and landed lightly on his feet, his lips quirking up into a confident smirk as his sharp, ice blue eyes scanned the area.

He wore leather boots up to the knee with light grey armor plating, with tight, embossed leather trousers, a holster on his right thigh carrying a platinum weapon, and an off-white belt. Above that was a bronze and olive vest with a high collar, made of leather with intricate designs covering the surface and a small grey metal chestpiece, along with a matching pauldron attached to his left shoulder. Below that was a white shirt with slight ruffles around the wrist, with a bronze bracer on his right wrist and a pair of rings, yellow and green on the middle finger and red and blue on the ring, on his left hand.

He set his weapon, a rifle made of dark wood and metal with small carvings on the surface, on his shoulder, turning to look at his partner. "An open invitation if ever I saw one, Fran."

Fran was tall woman, a foot taller than her six-foot partner, including the long white rabbit ears perched atop her head, the tips mottled brown. She wore mostly dark metal armor on her long legs, thighs, chest and her arms, though it exposed a good amount of darkly-tanned skin and hugged her figure, a thin veil covering her taut stomach. Her nails were long and sharp, and she wore clawed stilettoes on her feet. A length of silver-white hair hung down her back, leading to a dark metal headpiece that circled her eyes.

"Let's not tarry then, lest our host close it." She replied, her eyes crinkling in a small smile. The pair quickly hid the hoverbike before stealing through the halls on foot, avoiding the patrols and following the directions mapped out for them on a worn, crumpled piece of paper.

As they came around a hall, they heard the rumbling of a door closing, and young voice speaking aloud. "Hey, watch it! Guess it's not leaving me much choice…" The voice faded into the distance, along with the tapping of feet. Approaching an otherwise uninteresting wall, the pair examined it closely, a panel above a meshed sort of window lighting up.

Touching the panel, a section of the wall slid into the ground, allowing the two entry. "Apparently someone else had the same idea as us." The man mused, scratching at his well-groomed goatee.

Now in a secret passage, the two ran through the dusty halls, coming to a stop as they spotted someone out of place. Well, just as out of place as them.

A young man with platinum blond hair, wearing a silver metal vest and matching baggy pants, muttering to himself and scratching his head, walking through the halls with a determined stride.

Fran tapped her partner's shoulder, directing him to continue on their path while she followed the other thief. Nodding, the man darted across the hall and continued, matching the directions on the paper to his movements. Coming to a small stretch of wall that seemed the same as the others, he tapped a specific brick, a section of the wall dropping away, to reveal a secret room.

Inside the room, the other thief hit a hidden switch while searching through the small chests in the treasury, causing the head of a statue of some sort of goddess to slide open, revealing a brightly glowing stone that shone gold. As the thief took the stone from the statue, the man decided to speak up.

"Quite the performance." He said honestly. He and his partner had flown over the walls, while this boy, younger than him by a few years, had seemingly walked in and effortlessly found the treasury.

"Who are you?" The young man asked suspiciously, clutching the stone in a gauntleted fist, his blue-grey eyes narrowing.

The man stepped into the room, a smirk on his lips. "I'm the leading man, who else?" He asked rhetorically, spying his partner entering the room through another secret door. "Fran, the magicite."

His partner stepped up behind the young man, making him spin in place. "Now then, I'll be taking that." She said, holding her hand out expectantly.

The blond boy backed away from them, holding the magicite behind his back. "No you won't!" He denied vehemently. "I found it, it's mine!"

The man leaned against a nearby table, crossing his arms over his chest. He had nothing to worry about; he and his partner were more than a match for one boy, though the blade sitting in easy reach at his hip did signal he was a fighter. "And when I take it from you, it'll be mine." He replied easily, Fran standing beside him.

The young man eyed them warily, visibly deciding whether the treasure he had grabbed was worth a fight. A sudden screaming made the two thieves glance away for a second, but when they turned back, the young thief had fled, a flapping shutter the evidence of his flight.

The man turned a dry look on his partner. "Exit stage right." He muttered with a shrug.

The mouth of the goddess's statue slid closed as if to mock them. "The gods do not smile on us." His companion stated ruefully.

"I prefer it that way." He replied simply, before pushing himself up. "Snatch whatever tickles your fancy, my dear, and let's be off. I'll follow him on foot while you grab the bike." As he spoke, the man circled around the table he was leaning against, wresting a well-polished sword from the grip of a statue holding up a sun. Testing it, he found it perfectly balanced and very sharp.

Fran shook her head at his choice. "Men and their weapons." She said, shaking her head.

"Women and their wrenches." He shot back with a grin, holding the sword low as he mantled over the low stone wall.

Rushing after the blond thief, the man tracked him by the sound of his metal clothing jingling and his panting breaths. He paused at the bottom of long staircase and sighed. "Palaces and their damned staircases." He sighed, making his way up. As he neared the top, an explosion rocked the palace.

Stepping onto a terrace, he could hear the sounds of combat coming from below and see smoke rising. The thief was sitting on the ground looking shocked, and he looked up at the sky to see large ship darkening the night sky, lit up from within with the glossair rings glowing blue. "The _Ifrit_ , eh? Quite the entrance, I'd say."

The thief glared at him in question.

"Their timing's impeccable." He commented, watching the airship with narrow eyes. "If I didn't know better, I'd say they were waiting all along."

Another shot was fired from the ship, landing in the courtyard below and kicking up a cloud of dust and smoke. The man coughed lightly, waving the fog away, spotting the blond thief getting to his feet and racing away. "Stop running, will you?" He called, jogging after him with an annoyed sigh. Couldn't he see that the wall ended ahead?

Fran flew up in front of the blond, spinning the bike around to face him, the engine glowing in the night. She stared at him from the seat, daring him to make a move.

"End of the line!" Her partner called, coming up behind the thief. "You have something I want." _So give it to me or I'll take it from you._

The thief switched between looking at them, his eyes going wide. The man turned and cursed, running as a group of Imperials poured out of the door behind them. "Fran!" He called urgently as their metallic voices shouted behind him. "Time to move!"

Fran nodded in assent, steering the bike over the side. The thief, stunned by the turn of events, could barely make a surprised grunt before the man tackled him, hefting him up around the waist and stepping onto the parapet. "Off we go!" He cried cheerfully, throwing both of them out into empty space.

They dropped like stones, Fran steering the bike beneath them. Her partner landed safely behind her, and he reached out and grasped the blond's wrist, his hand holding the magicite.

The thief struggled in his grip, making him grit his teeth. "Let go of me!" The thief shouted.

"Keep struggling and I will!" He yelled back, the bike dipping dangerously. "What's going on, Fran?"

"I don't know." She replied calmly, a note of worry entering her voice. "It's not heeding me."

The bike wavered and dipped, the engines flickering as they barely floated through the air over the smoke and fire and combat below. "We don't have time for this." The man muttered angrily, clutching the thief as they bobbed.

"I'm slipping!" The thief called in panic. The man leaned over, grabbing him with his other hand.

"Not good!" He voiced his complaint to thin air as the _Ifrit_ fired another shot beneath them. The bike gave out as the smoke rose, and they dropped through the newly-made hole in the ground.

It bounced off a wall, skidding and sparking as it slid down the crumbled remains of a staircase, the rock walls buckling around them. With a screech of twisted metal, they crashed into flat ground, throwing them off of the bike.

The man groaned quietly in pain, rolling onto his stomach and pushing himself up. He stood, coughing in the cloud of dust, looking around for his companion.

"Saul!" The accented voice of his partner called through the cloud. "Are you alright?"

Saul shook his head, brushing himself down. "I'm fine, Fran. Are you?" He shot the rising thief a searching glare before making sure they weren't followed from above.

…

 _Saul's Diary (the word 'Diary' has been scribbled over with pen, replaced with 'Journal!', which is underlined)_

 _Entry I:_

 _He said I should record my memories. Given our adventures, they might make a good book in the future. That's what Balthier said, and given what I've seen and done, I kind of agree. So, here it is, my story. I guess I should start at the beginning._

 _It started with a fight. And that fight started because of me. I needed the gil for food, and I didn't have it. Others did, and I may have 'liberated' it from the pockets of some unsavory types, who weren't happy to give it away. And I wasn't quite as stealthy as I thought, which led to me getting cornered in a small park in Nabudis, before it got wiped off the map._

A harsh blow to the face sent Saul sprawling to the ground, impacting painfully on the cobblestone street. He pushed himself up on his hands and knees, grunting in pain.

"You think you can just steal from me and get away with it?" A snarly voice called from the park entrance, belonging to a bangaa with deep red skin, a black spotted snout and many earrings in his hanging ears, the roundness of his midsection an example of his wealth.

"I did think I got away with it." Saul replied, standing and facing the small gang. "That is, until you caught up with me."

"What made you think even coming near me was a good idea?" He asked angrily, the men around him, cracking their knuckles and looking threatening.

Saul shrugged simply. "I didn't think you'd miss a few coins."

The bangaa drew back, before stepping forward threateningly. "A 'few coins'?! You stole two hundred gil from me, you little punk!" He shouted.

The man shrugged again. "You look like you can afford to miss a few meals, tubby." He shot back, gesturing to the bangaa's stomach. "And an 'upstanding citizen' such as yourself should have no trouble making that money back in an hour."

"That's not the point." The bangaa replied, folding his arms. "Boys, go show him the point."

Four of the five men closed in, while the last hung back, withdrawing a dagger from his belt.

Behind the gang, a young man with brownish-blond hair watched events unfold, leaning against a wall, a rifle sitting next to him as his sharp, dark green eyes took in the action.

The first charged with a wild swing that Saul ducked under, punching the man in the stomach, and when he bent over, elbowed him in the face. The second stepped in and slipped under his guard, his foot crashing into Saul's ribs. Saul stumbled back, grunting in pain as the man came at him again. This time, Saul grabbed his foot and twisted sharply, getting a crack of bone and a scream from the man before yanking him down and slamming his knee into the other man's head.

The third and fourth were more cautious, attacking at the same time. Blocking one blow meant leaving himself open to the other, and one slip-up allowed one to land a harsh blow to Saul's ribs and another to his face, the impact making his nose snap out of place and spin around. Using the momentum, he spun back around and landed a spinning backfist on one of the men, the other attacking.

Saul blocked a short series of blows, before seizing his enemy's arm and pulling it out, slamming his other hand down on the elbow, making it bend in the opposite direction, before swinging his fist into the other man's face, punching him in the stomach and then the side of the throat, making him collapse to the ground.

The fourth man reengaged, dashing at Saul and leaping, spinning around to launch a kick at his head. Saul ducked under, stumbling to the ground as his injuries made it very clear he was reaching his limit. Planting one of his hands on the ground to steady himself, his hands raked through the wet earth, coming upon a smooth, fist-sized stone that he grasped tightly.

The fourth man brought his heel down, meaning to hit Saul in the head, though the injured man lurched out of the way, the blow landing on his shoulder instead. Saul gripped his rock and swung it into the man's leg, making him cry out in pain and fall to his knees, where he was hit in the side of the head with the stone.

Saul pushed himself up, panting heavily with a thin stream of dribbling down his face from his nose and above his left eye. The first man, having recovered from his attack, leapt back into the fray, putting his shoulder down and charging at Saul. He slammed into Saul, carrying him into a nearby tree, the impact shaking the trunk.

Saul groaned in agony as his damage ribs took more punishment, switching the rock to his left hand and bringing it down on his attacker's head, once, twice, before the man's grip loosened and he slipped out, seizing the man's hair and slamming his face into the trunk.

Saul turned to face the bangaa, only to find the last man a few feet from him, his dagger glinting in the low light. Saul tried to dodge the quick swings, but he had taken too much damage, stumbling over his feet as the man swung at him, slashing open his sodden and muddied shirt, spilling his blood on the previously beige cloth.

Multiple cuts and wounds were opened up on his chest and arms, causing him to drop the rock. The knife came back, and as it swung once more, Saul mustered up the last of his strength, lashing out and catching the dagger-wielders arm with his left hand, grasping his hand with right. He pulled and twisted, ripping the knife away and gripping it, slamming the hilt into his attacker's face, dazing him. Saul, still holding the man's arm, pushed forward, shoving the man across the park onto a low wooden bench, slamming his hand down on the wet wood and bringing the knife back, driving it into the man's palm, pinning it to the bench.

Saul scrambled back as the man screamed in pain, his fingers clumsily scrabbling for the smooth rock, finding it and lunging at the pinned man, bringing it down on the side of his head.

Beaten and bloody, the last man standing pushed himself up, freezing at the sound of a hammer being pulled back. Slowly spinning around, he found the bangaa leveling a rifle at him, fearing dancing in his beady eyes.

"You-what the hell are you?!" It shouted at him, his voice shaky. "What kind of monster are you?"

Saul weighed the rock in his hands, trying to determine if he could hurl it before the bangaa could pull the trigger. A loud crack made him jump, the bangaa stumbling forward a step before collapsing on his front, revealing a man standing behind him, wielding a smoking gun.

"I thought he'd never shut up." The man said lightly, resting the gun on his shoulder. He took in the sight of six men, five laid out in various states of unconsciousness or even death, caused by the six, who dropped to his knees, clutching his ribs. His eyes softening, the green-eyed man held his hand up, folding it in a short pattern, before waving a white glowing ball at the kneeling man.

Saul saw the spell heading his way, flinching as it impacted his arm. Instead of pain, however, it healed some of his wounds, erasing a portion of the pain. He looked up at the other man in question. "What…do you want?" He panted, wiping the blood from his face.

"Not here." The man replied shortly, his accent cultured but mischievous. "Snag whatever grabs your fancy and follow me."

Arching an eyebrow, Saul quickly searched through the pockets of the other men, grabbing whatever gil he could find, taking the bangaa's gun and ammo pouch, finding a potion hidden within. Loot thus looted, he stumbled after the other man, who walked with a confident stride.

…

The man led Saul around the Aerodrome, to a private hangar where a long skyship sat. They walked up a small ramp into the cargo hold. The other man gestured for Saul to take a seat on a box. "I'll get you a shirt." He said, before disappearing into the halls.

Saul sat himself down, sighing in relief. He loaded a bullet into the gun he had taken off the bangaa, just in case the man attempted to kill him. He had only followed the man because he saved his life.

Looking up, Saul got a faceful of white shirt. Blinking, he set it aside and pulled off the rags of his former shirt. "Who…" He grasped his bent nose and twisted it back into place with quiet grunt and a crunch. "…are you?"

The man leaned against the wall, watching him with sharp green eyes. "I'm the leading man, who else?" He replied rhetorically, finding great amusement in the way Saul glared at him. "You can call me Balthier."

"Well, Balthier," Saul drank the potion down, sighing as most of his wounds were mended. "why did you help me?" He pulled the shirt on, shaking his head.

Balthier shrugged. "A man gets cornered by a small gang and beaten half to death, who wouldn't stop and help?" He replied easily. "Though, the fact that you managed to win against those odds is impressive, I will admit. Even I would've had trouble."

Saul narrowed his eyes on the man. "Are you buttering me up for something? What do you want?" He asked suspiciously.

"You don't trust easily, do you?" Balthier questioned, crossing his arms over his bronze and olive vest.

"I've been living on the streets for a year." The beaten one answered. "I'm not stupid."

"Getting the point, I saw potential in you." Balthier replied honestly. "The potential for greatness, a veritable untapped gold-mine of talent. But, like gold, it needs to be refined and shaped before it becomes truly valuable. And that's what I'm offering you."

Saul arched an eyebrow at him. "You're offering to train me?" He asked bluntly. "Why? And how?"

Balthier sighed, rubbing his chin. "You're quite the straight-shooter, aren't you?" He muttered, mostly to himself. "As for the 'why', well, as much as it pains me to admit as the leading man of this story, there are somethings I can't handle alone. As for the 'how'...I was an Archadian Judge, once. The youngest in the Empire's history. I gave it up to be a Sky Pirate."

"How do I know this isn't some ploy to kill me?" Saul asked, his icy blue eyes fixed on Balthier's dark green.

The sky pirate snorted. "If I wanted you dead, I would've let that bangaa shoot you." He pushed off the wall, meandering towards Saul. "I'm the leading man, and we always have a sidekick." He held his out to shake.

Saul shook his head. "I'm no one's sidekick." He grunted, standing from the box. "But…I wouldn't mind being called 'partner'."

Balthier smiled as their hands clasped, and the deal was sealed.

 _That was how I met Balthier, my sky pirate mentor. I still had to heal before we could start my training, but it was as good a start as any to a partnership._

…

"What happened?" Fran asked in confusion, crouching over the wreck of their hoverbike. "Our hover didn't just drop - it disappeared."

Saul rubbed the bridge of his nose in irritation. _We_ just _modified it yesterday!_ "Oh, forget it." He sighed. "With the _Ifrit_ overhead, flying would be playing with fire, and getting burned is not on tonight's agenda." He looked past the blond thief, into the surprisingly well-lit waterway, his face twisting in a grimace. "We'll go the old-fashioned way."

Fran glanced at the thief, who was staring at her ears in question, before looking at Saul. "Not many viera where you come from, thief?" He asked.

"It's Vaan!" The thief insisted, before gaining a contrite look. "Sorry."

Saul brushed his pants down, stepping up next to his partner. "Well, Fran's special. Not many viera would deign to partner with a hume."

"Oh?" She turned an amused look on him. "Like a 'sky' pirate that steals through the sewers?"

The pirate grimaced, and nodded. She had a point.

"Pirates?" Vaan asked in surprise, glancing between them incredulously. "You're sky pirates? So you have an airship?" He asked excitedly.

"The best in the sky." Saul replied proudly. "And the name's Balthier. My lovely companion is Fran. And since we're all in this fine mess together, we'll have to work together to get out of it, understood?" He subtly eyed the magicite Vaan was holding. _Perhaps he'll get distracted, and I could snatch it._

Apparently he wasn't subtle enough, as the thief hid the glowing stone behind his back, storing it in a pouch attached to his belt. "Don't even think you're getting this." He rebuked.

"Never crossed my mind." Balthier lied smoothly, checking his weapons. "Given the rancid smell, I'd say we're in a sewer of some sort, so we can expect rats, possibly bats, and all sorts of slimy, distasteful creatures."

Fran huffed, retrieving her bow from the hover. "Much like our contacts in the city, then." She joked blandly, checking her quiver.

"Indeed, but much less responsive to coin, I presume." The pirate replied, before turning to Vaan. "Well, you live here. Lead the way."

"Um, alright." The blond thief looked around the halls of the waterway, gathering his bearings. "This way."

They set off at a brisk walk, the sound of their steps mingling with flowing of water. The lanterns' light shone through colored glass, giving the whole area a blue glow to it. Along the way, the party encountered rats with glowing eyes, who leapt at them, snarling, but were easily defeated by a swing of Balthier's sword or Vaan's blade. Small bats also dropped from the ceiling to nip at their ears, and Fran's bow ended many of them.

Walking down a set of steps, Balthier made a noise of disgust. "Definitely going to need a wash." He grumbled at the water lapping at his ankles.

"You're not the one with exposed feet." Fran replied dryly, looking unconcerned from the smell or the dirtiness.

They paused upon sighting two bodies, sprawled in the water. They were fresh, clad in light armor with gaping wounds being gnawed on by smaller vermin, who fled as they approached. There was no use in checking to see if life remained in their bodies; they were obviously dead.

Still, Balthier almost knelt next to them, examining the bodies with a critical eye. They were definitely _not_ Imperials, given the midriff-baring armor and silver metal plates. Imperials preferred full-body armor, colored dull grey and black. "Insurgents. Likely wanted to take advantage of the lax security and sneak into the fete, to feed the good Consul cold steel for dinner." He shook his head ruefully. "And here I thought we were being original."

He patted the bodies down, finding a pair of potions each, with one having stored a tuft of Phoenix Down on his person. They had both died before being able to use it.

"Hey, what are you doing?!" Vaan asked indignantly, making Balthier give him a dry look.

"They aren't going to need it, now are they?" He replied rhetorically, grabbing a curved sword from the water near the bodies, tossing it to thief. "Here. That little blade of yours may be fine for chopping rats, but I get the feeling we'll be finding harder enemies ahead. Think of it like this: would you rather leave this perfectly good equipment behind to rot with their bodies, or take it in their stead and put it to good use?"

Vaan shook the water from the longer blade, grasping it comfortably. "I know see what you mean, but it still feels odd…" He shook his head, taking the lead once more. "Do you think the Consul knew an attack was coming?"

Balthier shrugged, taking aim with his rifle and firing. A rat some yards away squealed as its head exploded. "Vayne would be used to such attempts on his life, and given how fast the _Ifrit_ responded, I don't doubt the fete was a trap, which the insurgents sprung admirably. A fine, bloody banquet." He sighed, reloading the weapon.

As they walked past a floating fish creature, the sky pirate glanced down a sideway, pausing as the sight registered in his mind. He made a confused noise, pointing. Vaan looked over and made a pleased sound. "Oh, a chest!" He jogged over to out of place chest, opening it easily. "Hm, a potion."

Balthier arched an eyebrow in question. "You're not surprised to find a chest down here? In a sewer? I can get in a city or the more well-traveled paths, but…this is a _sewer._ "

"Why would I be surprised?" Vaan asked confusedly, storing the potion in his pouch. "There are plenty of these all around. Most of the time, they just have a few coins, but I found a dagger, once."

Fran shook her head, her long silver hair rustling in the damp air. "Perhap tis best to not question our luck, lest fortune frown on us." She commented as they walked.

Balthier shook his head, sighing. "It's still in a sewer." He grumbled.

Conversation died as they continued their journey, the only sounds being the sloshing of water and the occasional grunt as Vaan swung his heavier sword, getting used to the weight. They came across a few more chest, containing a small amount of coin and potions.

"I think we're about halfway." Vaan spoke up as they came to a set of stairs leading down to a water-logged platform.

The sounds of steel meeting steel and shouting voices made them look up, seeing a woman and a short catwalk surrounded by Imperials. "Now we have her!" One called as they approached her with weapons drawn, right before the woman struck with her sword, cutting through his stomach and sending him falling to the platform below.

"Who would be next?!" She shouted challengingly.

"Close ranks! Bring her down!" The leader ordered, making her back up cautiously.

Balthier darted past his companions, standing below the woman. He whistled sharply, gaining her attention. "Jump!" He called, holding his arms out. "Quickly now!"

The woman looked between him and the squad, weighing her chances before turning and jumping from the ledge, her grey eyes meeting his blue for a single long second, before she landed in his arms. He set her down as the clanking of armored footsteps rang out. "She's not alone!" An Imperial shouted.

The pirate set the ash-blonde woman down, drawing his sword. "Our ranks grow by the hour." Fran lamented, drawing her bow and nocking an arrow.

"At least we have one more to shoulder the burden." Balthier replied cheerfully, switching his sword to his left hand, drawing his rifle with his right and firing off a shot. A soldier cried in pain as the round punched through his shoulder, before an arrow from the viera that slipped under his helm silenced him.

Four Imperials were left, leaving the numbers equal. The pirate charged at them with Vaan behind him, ducking under a slash from a soldier and responding with his own. Their blades met, and Balthier's sheared through the other, to the surprise of both opponents. He recovered first, impaling the soldier through the chest, marveling as the blade slipped out of the corpse with ease.

"What a blade!" Balthier laughed.

One of the soldiers slipped past the melee and made a beeline for Fran, figuring her lean, willowy stature would make her an easier target to engage; an assumption that was immediately proven false when the viera stepped forward and planted a long leg in his chest, denting the metal and sending him to the ground, where her partner finished him off.

Vaan and another Imperial circled each other warily, the older man stepping forward to attack. The thief nimbly ducked around, opening a gash in his stomach. The Imperial stumbled back with a grunt, reaching into his belt to grab a potion. "Oh no you don't!" Vaan cried dashed forward, slapping a sloppy swing aside and slashing the soldier's throat open. Blood poured from the wound as the soldier slowly collapsed to the ground.

The ash-blonde woman had summarily dealt with her opponent, blocking his strike with her shield and stabbing him the stomach, bringing it down on the back of helmet followed by her blade.

Balthier let the flowing water wash the blood from his sword before approaching the pensive woman, who was staring out into the depths of the waterway. "Are you hurt at all?" He asked carefully.

She turned her grey eyes on him, blinking as she took in his features. "I am not. Thank you." She said honestly, though she seemed confused.

"Good. I am Balthier, this is my companion Fran, and he is Vaan." Balthier introduced with a short bow. "And you are?"

"Amalia." She replied shortly, though not unkindly.

"A pleasure, Amalia." The pirate returned, subtly eyeing the woman, trying to decided if what she was wearing was conservative or not. In Rabanastren fashion, it bared much of her creamy skin in the dull lighting of the waterway. She wore some sort of jacket that had a wide collar on the back and wrapped around most of her torso, baring her shoulders and the top of her breasts, with detached sleeves that puffed out around the elbow with light metal bracers. She had something like a gorget around her neck, though it didn't cover her throat entirely, wearing lightly armored boots that reached her thighs and some sort of skirt and shorts combo that was pink with a blue belt.

It showed as much as it covered, without being inappropriate. He gave up on trying to determine the state and simply labeled it as 'interesting'.

"There were others with me…" She offered, looking into the waterway.

 _Must've been the ones we found earlier._ Balthier thought grimly as Fran answered. "I'm sorry."

Amalia bowed her head, her voice distraught. "No…" She murmured sadly.

As if in response, the magicite in Vaan's pouch began to glow. The thief withdrew it, staring at the stone in confusion, drawing the attention of the others. "Interesting…" Balthier muttered, and Vaan shot him a glare.

"Don't get any ideas, it's mine." He declared, pointing at the pirate.

"Night's not over yet, Vaan." Balthier replied glibly, smiling mischievously.

Amalia's eyes darted from the magicite in the thief's hand to the man himself, her eyes narrowing in accusation. "You stole that?" She asked, affronted.

"Yeah!" Vaan replied cheerfully, and going by the tone of his voice, he was happy someone besides the two pirates had noticed.

Balthier shook his head, restraining a chuckle. _That was not a surprised and impressed voice, Vaan, but shocked and insulted._ He was young, he'd learn yet. Amalia gave the thief an exasperated look.

"Are you finished?" Fran asked blandly, her hands on her hips. "We have yet escape these sewers. Conversation can wait. When the guards don't report in, they will come looking for us."

"That would imply that they aren't already." Balthier added dryly, stiffening as a familiar click echoed, almost covered by the moving water. His eyes darted to Fran, her left ear twitching towards Amalia. Nodding slightly, he gripped the hilt of his sword and dashed towards the blonde woman, pushing her aside and swinging his sword at seemingly empty air.

Up on the catwalk, the Imperial in light armor, his rifle set on his shoulder, gasped as his breastplate was rent by an invisible slash. Fran took aim and let loose an arrow, the barbed tip impaling the soldier through heart by the opening in his armor. The soldier teetered on the ledge, before falling forward and landing on the platform face-first, his gun clattering beside him.

"As I said." Balthier said easily, stroking his goatee before moving to the down bodies. "Telekinesis is very useful."

"You should come with us!" Vaan eagerly offered Amalia. "Better than wandering down here by yourself."

She sniffed disdainfully, striding past him. "Very well." She agreed grudgingly, before glancing at the sky pirate. "What _are_ you doing?"

Balthier looked up at her, in the middle of looting the bodies. "What does it look like?" He answered. "Can I correctly assume that you don't know how to use a gun, Vaan?"

The blond thief shook his head. "No, I've never learned. I feel more comfortable with a blade."

The sky pirate grunted in acknowledgement, tossing the Imperial's rifle to Amalia, followed by a pouch full of ammo. "Use that for now, Amalia. Vaan and I can handle the up close, and there's no need to put all of us in danger at once, is there?"

The ashen-haired woman huffed but nodded, sheathing her sword and tying the ammo to her belt. "Very well. But do not think you can order me around." She replied grumpily.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Princess." Balthier shot back dryly, sighing and standing. "Nothing you would use here, Fran. Sorry."

The viera shook her head ruefully, her ears twitching. "Relegated to the back, I see."

As they began to walk once more, Amalia spoke up. "While the situation requires that I accept such help as I find it, even from _thieves._ I will accompany you until we find my companions, but no longer than that."

"So be it." Balthier replied easily, pausing as they came across another chest. He cracked it open, finding and taking the potion within. "Still not used to that."

The group, now one larger, continued on their way, disposing of the vermin that attacked them easily while also pausing to loot whatever chests they found. In one, they found an oaken staff, which Fran snatched up happily, Balthier sheathing his sword and drawing his gun to join Amalia in the ranged department. Only he could tell the viera was happy, though, as the rabbit-eared women were subdued by nature, and only one who spent a long time around them could tell how they felt.

"You would let your companion take the blows?" The ashen-haired woman asked, arching a brow disdainfully.

"Don't let Fran's looks fool you." He replied in good humor, as the viera used her staff to smack a rat out of sight. "She's stronger than I."

After what felt like an hour of walking up and down stairs, through ankle-high water and damp stone, they came upon a well-lit platform. "The exit's just over there!" Vaan called, relief in his voice. "Not far to go."

An uncomfortable prickle sat on the back of Balthier's neck, and judging by the way the others drew closer, they felt it as well. A thick bubbling sound began to echo through the waterway as three squat forms oozed over the side of the platform. They were monsters made of sickly-green sludge, with bubble-like blue eyes set in caramel colored slime.

The trio of slimes oozed towards them, and as they backed up, drawing closer together, the feeling of something overhead caused all four to slowly look up at the stone ceiling, spotting another slime. This one was twice the size of the others, dropping behind them to encircle the group with a loud plop.

Balthier took aim and fired, the bullet striking the Flan with seemingly no effect. Storing his rifle and drawing his sword, he licked his lips. "What a fine mess we've gotten ourselves into." He muttered, slashing at the creature in front of him.

It gurgled in what might have been pain, sliding forward as multiple little arms formed around its midsection, slamming them into the pirate. He gasped in pain, feeling bruises forming on his ribs. He could only pick away at it with his sword, jumping back when it attacked.

A quick glance at his companions revealed that they were in the same boat, though Vaan was looking more battered than Amalia or Fran, breathing heavily while grabbing at his ribs.

Balthier reached into his pouch, his fingers closing around the round glass of a potion bottle. "Vaan!" He called, throwing the bottle at the thief.

As it sailed through the air, the magic inside sensed it was being used and the glass faded, the healing liquid within splashing on Vaan and suffusing him with a pleasant green glow. The blond sighed in relief as his pain was relieved.

Balthier paid for his moment of kindness, as the slime used his distraction to batter his feet out from under him, knocking him to the floor. The slime lunged at him, intending to engulf and suffocate him in its semi-liquid body.

Rolling away, irritation burning in his chest, the pirate snarled and waved his hand in a short, sharp pattern before throwing it out, a tongue of flame shooting from his palm. "Back!" He shouted angrily.

The fire scorched the flan, which gurgled and screeched in pain. Balthier arched an eyebrow in interest, a smirk curling his lips. "The creatures are vulnerable to fire!" He called, his hand already in the motions of another Fire spell.

The flan recoiled, allowing him to slice through it with his sword, watching as it wobbled for a moment before collapsing on itself and expiring in a puddle of sludge. He allowed himself to smile, then turned to join Vaan with his own flan.

Amalia and Fran used their own Fire spells to great effect, the viera's enemy dying quickly while she joined the Resistance fighter in facing the large creature. Balthier and Vaan made short work of his flan, moving to join the ladies in surrounding the fat one.

The older beings released gouts of flame every so often, burning the flan as the thief slashed at it with his sword, until it bubbled and frothed furiously, attempting to flee before dying and sliding over the ledge, leaving a trail of puddles along the ground.

The group leaned on their knees, panting from the effort but smiling in success. Vaan laughed openly, sitting on the ground. "I hate those things!" He admitted, stretching his arms over his head. "But man, that was kind of fun."

"Ah, the rush of combat." Balthier chuckled in agreement, folding his hand and sending a gently floating orb at the thief as Fran did the same to Amalia, and she did the same to him. "You're getting pretty handy with that blade, Vaan."

The blond thief shrugged, grinning. "I'm a fast learner. I could use a shield, though." He frowned for a second, wiggling his fingers. "Speaking of…" He slowly folded his hand, creating a flickering Cure spell that floated to Fran.

The sky pirate kicked his boot through the sludge left by a flan, dislodging a small, slime-covered buckler. "You're in luck." He said with a smile, picking the shield up carefully and tapping it against the ground to dislodge the remains.

Vaan made a face as he picked the buckler up, but strapped it to his arm nonetheless. "I have to admit," Amalia started, "You fight well, for thieves."

"We aim to impress." Balthier shot back, standing up and sighing. "Well, our journey is nearly over, at least."

They picked through the piles of slime, retrieving a dagger, a pair of potions and a pouch ammo, no doubt from some poor soul who fell victim to the flans. Continuing through their fatigue, the group eventually made it across the way, nearing the exit. Before they entered a large metal gate, they stopped at a large blue crystal that floated above the ground, sparkles occasionally floating off of it. As Vaan reached out and touched it, similar sparkles flared to life around the party, refreshing them.

"Dead useful, those things are. Too bad they can't be moved." Otherwise he would store one on his ship.

The gate swung open easily and closed behind them with a loud clang, and they had barely taken a dozen steps before fog began to fill the room. The heat spiked and Amalia sighed. "Oh, what now?" She asked unhappily.

"Uh oh." Vaan blanched with fear, his pale blue eyes darting around the room. "We just had to be here tonight…"

"What?" Balthier asked in concern, while cursing in his mind.

"Firemane." The thief stated, gulping and gripping his sword.

Fran stiffened, her ears twitching minutely. "An Elemental." She murmured. "A Fire one."

"Oh, great."

An angry ball of fire zipped through the air, floating in front of them shortly before exploding into its true shape; that of a large horse, made entirely out of raging fire. It whinned in rage before charging at them, its hooves leaving a flaming trail behind it.

"Scatter!" Amalia shouted as they dived out of the way.

Her oaken pole would be less than helpful here, so Fran backed away and retrieved her bow, an arrow piercing Firemane's flank. It appeared to hurt the creature a bit, though the shaft immediately caught fire.

"Bring it into the water!" Vaan called desperately, hacking at the Fire Elemental while backing away, splashing into the water around the area.

Amalia, seeing it focusing on the thief, attacked it from behind, slicing at its legs and dancing away when it kicked at her. Balthier took aim, firing a shot into Firemane's side, reloading the gun before jumping into the fray, an arrow zipping over his head.

Firemane, being surrounded, neighed in rage and bucked it's head, rearing back on its rear legs and bringing them down, releasing a wave of fire. Balthier covered his face and grit his teeth in pain as the heat washed over him. Due to having pulled the Elemental into the water, the attack wasn't as potent as it could be; that didn't mean it was harmless.

The sky pirate shook his head to clear the heat, feeling gentle coolness infusing his body as Fran sent a Cure at him. He tossed a potion at Amalia and Vaan, both blondes feeling the effects of the attack. Grabbing his gun, Balthier whistled sharply and shouted, "Toasty!"

Drawn by the echoing shout, Firemane turned to face the pirate, only to receive a bullet in the eye. It screamed in pain, rearing back on its legs, allowing Amalia and Vaan open attacks at its belly.

He holstered his gun and sprinted at the Elemental, slashing it across the snout and the neck as another arrow buried itself in Firemane's other eye.

It began to flicker, stumbling away from the group, whinnying in pain and anger before bursting into the orb of fire it had appeared as. It floated uncertainly in the air for a second, before diving at Amalia.

The ashen-haired woman prepared her shield, only for Balthier to step in front of her his hand grasping the weapon on his thigh. Pulling it, he fired a single, thunderous shot that echoed throughout the whole waterway, the orb of fire bursting into embers that faded quickly. A pair of items slid along the ground, stopping at Balthier's boots with a quiet clink.

The weapon resembled a gun, much smaller but with aura of power around it. It was platinum colored, with a barrel over a foot long, inscribed with a word along the length in curling script. It was graceful and deadly, like a work of art with only one purpose: the death of whatever was in its sights.

"Huh." He bent down and picked the items up, finding them to be a bracelet of some sort, made of dark metal and inset with glowing red stones, and the other was a bigger stone, round and smooth. glowing brightly with inner fire. "Well, to the victor goes the spoils, I guess."

He pocketed the items, turning to find Amalia staring at him, nonplussed. "You…saved me." She stated, sounding confused.

"Nonsense." He waved it off easily, giving her a winning smile. "You could've handled it just fine. I'm the leading man, it's my job to be all heroic."

She narrowed her eyes on him, unsure of how to respond. Unluckily, she didn't get to respond, as a cultured voice rang out from above. "Stand where you are!"

Vaan frowned as he found the voice to be familiar, before paling as he realized two things. One, that a large amount of Imperials had cornered them, the multitude of crossbows fixed on them leaving them with nowhere to go. Second, that voice was familiar because it belonged to the new Consul.

Said Consul peered at them seriously from behind the line of soldiers, his mouth set in a grim line, his green, gold and white outfit standing out among the dank surroundings and grey-clad soldiers.

Amalia growled softly and made to step forward, gripping her sword, but Balthier reached out and grabbed her hand quickly. "Now is not the time, Princess." He whispered urgently.

She clenched her hand around his, swiveling to look at the Imperial Soldiers with bare swords surrounding them. She shook slightly, before releasing a quiet, defeated sigh, her shoulders slumping minutely, knowing she was defeated.

Balthier gently squeezed her hand for comfort, before releasing it and dropping his weapons to the floor, his companions doing the same.

They were caught.

…

They were clapped in thick, heavy manacles and paraded up into the Lowtown of Rabanastre, where a crowd had gathered to watch the proceedings. They muttered openly about the quartet, wondering if they were the reason for the explosions last night, knowing they were thieves.

Amalia balked at the thought. "They think I'm a common thief." She whispered in disbelief.

"Better than a common Assassin." Balthier whispered back, looking completely at ease despite the lack weapons and free movement. His companion was standing calmly as well.

"How can you be so calm?" She muttered curiously.

He shrugged carefully, rolling his shoulders. "It's not the first time I've been clapped in irons, Princess." He noticed a soldier approaching. "Don't worry about a thing, Amalia. Our paths will cross again, I know it."

She looked at him in question, before the soldier pushed her. "Move along." He ordered sharply.

Amalia realized what Balthier meant as she was led away, leaving the trio of thieves behind. "These people have done nothing, release them!" She tried to order, but was swiftly ignored.

"What are you doing?" Vaan asked incredulously. Balthier knew she was trying to get them off the hook, but it wouldn't work. Not that he couldn't give her credit for trying.

Amalia was led away, Vayne Solidor glancing at them before following.

A commotion was roused a girlish voice cried out, "Wait!" Their eyes turned to see a young woman with light blonde hair struggling with a soldier, trying to get to them. "He didn't know what he was doing! You have to let him go, you have to!"

Vaan gasped in surprise. "Penelo!" He called, drawing the young woman's attention. "That dinner will have to wait. Sorry." He said with a sheepish look.

She looked at him with tearful eyes. "I told you…" She whispered sadly.

"That's enough!" The Imperial Commander barked, sharply elbowing Vaan in the back of the head.

The thief cried out and stumbled, Fran's strong being the only thing from stopping him meeting the ground, though he was knocked insensate by the blow.

"Leave him alone!" Penelo cried desperately, shoving the two soldiers away with surprising strength, darting through the armored figures to reach Vaan, until Balthier stepped in front of her.

"Hold onto this, would you?" He held out his red and blue ring, a charming smirk on his face. "Just until I bring Vaan back to you."

Penelo, too shocked to protest, took the ring with trembling hands as an Imperial grabbed Balthier by the arm, roughly pulling him away. He glanced back at the young woman, feeling empathy for the loss she must have been feeling.

"You really meant that," Fran commented quietly. "To have given her that ring."

He nodded tightly, allowing to be led into a bar-lined carriage. He sat quietly on the uncomfortable wooden bench, his mind awhirl. _As Balthier or Saul, trouble seems drawn to me like a stalker._ Saul sighed. _How unfortunate._

…

…

…

 **A/N: I didn't want to write this. I didn't. I was in the middle of writing chapter eight of Dare To Wander, so if it reads similarly, that's why.**

 **This story might as well be called 'Aaaaaaaaargggh!' to accurately describe how I feel, or in a less eloquent term, just** _ **FUCK!**_

 **So, here's what happened: Tuesday after class, I was trawling for a good story to read, and since there weren't any in my usual fandoms (Harry Potter and Naruto), I decided to turn my eye elsewhere. Since I played Final Fantasy XII before, I looked there and ended up finding a really good story there. It featured Balthier and Penelo as the pairing, which I had never thought of before, but the author pulled it off really, really well. So well that I read the whole story, finishing it Wednesday morning, and an idea started burning in my mind. This story.**

 **I figured it would fade after a while, because I really didn't want to make another story after swearing to not start another story until I finished any of my current ones. So I went to bed figuring it would fade when I woke up.**

 **It fucking didn't. It was more detailed in my mind, and for the rest of the week, until I started writing on Friday, it dominated my fucking brain and still fucking does. I really had no choice but to write it out to try and relieve the pressure, and it's barely worked.**

 **So, yeah. Fuck.**

 **Sigh, anyway, details: I'm just going to come out and say it, since some will figure it out with the title and the fact that Saul is calling himself Balthier while Balthier isn't around: Balthier, here, is dead, and has been for awhile. How it happened and why Saul still uses his name will remain a mystery until I reveal it, which might be sooner than later given the domination this story has in my mind. But just know that it is something that gives Saul nightmares.**

 **Spells: The wiki says spells are verbal, but I never heard anyone say anything when casting spells in the game, so instead, they just fold and wave a hand various ways to cast spells. They have to buy spells from the vendor first, in the form of Spellstones that can teach them how to cast, and that can be passed around.**

 **I don't know what the pairings could be right now. I'll figure it out eventually.**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoy this. There might a bunch of chapters coming for this soon, since my mind and this story in the 'just fuck already!' stage, where it's the only thing I can focus on.**

 **Review, why don't you? Let me know what you think. Since Saul is Balthier and Saul is not a placid sort and is actually the protagonist of the story, things will be different, especially how he reacts to situations and deals with people. Essentially, it's a mix of myself and Balthier. Which has a reason.**

 **Stay Awesome.**

 **~Soleneus**

 **P.S.: Most of my current stories are original characters or self-inserts (in a fashion), with the Hero series, Dare To Wander and The Life With Monster Girls being one or the other. I wonder if I'm reaching some sort of plateau where it's the only thing I write? Maybe it means I'm about ready to seriously work on my original stuff? I hope so.**

 **I had chapters planned for every story, but those are going to be put on hold till I can shake the grasp this story has on my mind. Seriously, I'm probably going to start on the second chapter after I publish this. I won't leave me alone.**

 **Stay Awesome Some More, because apparently I won't be.**

 **~still Soleneus**


	2. In The Dark Again

_Saul's Diary (JOURNAL!)_

 _Entry II:_

 _Now that I look back on it, our partnership is a perfect fit. I had the strength, he had the skill. I had the talent, and he had experience. Of course, it couldn't be left like that. I would have to rely on him too much to get me out trouble. He views the whole things as some sort of play, always going on about being the 'leading man'. He even devised roles._

"So, I have this role in mind for us." Balthier announced one morning as they ate breakfast. "A pair of Archadian Rogues, brothers perhaps, who decided to spurn the Imperial Military for a life of wealth and adventure! It even has a kernel of truth in it, as well."

Saul raised a hand. "I'm not Archadian." He pointed out blandly, munching on an apple.

The sky pirate shrugged carelessly. "Well, I'll just have to teach you how talk, act, and fight like an Archadian, then." He replied, kicking his feet up on the table. "We already look similar, so the 'brother' role is down. First, we need to get you some stylish clothes!"

 _Naturally, his idea of 'stylish' meant basically his style, though tailored to fit my frame. I'm broader in the shoulder than Balthier, and just generally wider. Plus, all the details on his vest make my eyes hurt, so I got something a little different._

"Why a sun?" The sky pirate asked curiously.

Saul shrugged. "I dunno."

 _And after I got a haircut and a shave, it turns out Balthier and I really did resemble each other. Not as closely as brothers, perhaps, but definitely cousins._

 _After getting the look down, it was time to sound and move the part. Balthier is a surprisingly strict taskmaster; he really takes this image business seriously._

"No, you need to enunciate more." Balthier stressed. "Repeat after me: 'I should say, we are in quite the conundrum.'"

"I should say, we are in quite the conundrum." Saul repeated slowly, feeling out the words.

"Stress the 'a'."

 _That wasn't the most difficult part, though. No, that was dealing with Balthier being a drama queen. Kidding! Stop reading my journal, Balthier!_

 _Learning how to sword fight was the worst part._

"No, no, loosen your grip and flourish!" The sky pirate barked. "Again!"

Saul grit his teeth and went through the move set again, but instead of coming off as graceful, it came off as angry.

"Wrong!" Balthier rebuked, lightly smacking his partner's leg with the thin branch they practiced fencing with.

"Ow! Stop hitting me!"

"Say it as: 'Steady on, lad!'"

"I'll 'Steady' your 'on', you bastard!"

 _Of course, the worst part about it was that Archadian Fencing just didn't fit me. I wasn't built for it. It's too light and girly, more fit for Balthier and his svelte, womanly figure (seriously, stop reading my journal, Balthier). It has too many looping flourishes and wide, slow swings. It just doesn't fit me. And it seems very slow. I wonder if that's why Balthier uses a gun?_

"I have come to a startling conclusion!" The sky pirate announced after Saul finished a set of Archadian Fencing moves. "You don't fit the style at all."

Saul glared at him, slack-jawed. "You couldn't have figured that out sooner? Like, a month ago, when we started this?" His voice definitely carried a light Archadian accent, which was progress.

Balthier shrugged unrepentantly. "I did. I just wanted to see how far you would take a hopeless case. You performed rather admirably, actually."

His partner scowled. "That doesn't inspire confidence."

…

"So, this is the welp you want me to teach?" An old bangaa, his beard white with age, asked grouchily.

Balthier leaned casually on the counter of the weapons store, giving a charming smirk to the assistant. "Indeed he is, my old man." He winked at the girl, making her blush and turn away. "So, you think you're up for the task?"

The bangaa growled at him, giving Saul a searching look through his thick eyeglasses. "Aye, I am. Though, I'm not doing this for free. I have a few things I need done…"

…

"Oh gods!" Saul yelped, sprinting towards Balthier with a large red-and-purple wolf close on his tail. "Help me!"

Balthier took aim, firing off a shot as the wolf leaped at his partner, the bullet passing through the creature's mouth and into its brain. "You were supposed to fight the wolf, not run away from it!"

"You didn't tell they would be that big!"

…

"Here you go, fourteen wolf pelts." Saul set the load on the counter, wiping the sweat from his brow with a bloody sleeve, smearing red on his face. He grimaced, frowning in concentration before slowly folding his hand, sending a weak Cure spell at himself.

"Good work." The grumpy bangaa said grumpily, beckoning him into the back, grabbing a practice sword. "Now, let's see where you stand."

 _That bangaa kicked my ass. For a month straight. When I wasn't out hunting by myself (Balthier was there, but at a distance, just in case I got into more trouble I could handle), I was being trained into the ground, then Cured until I felt perfectly fine, then trained to the ground again._

 _At the end of the month, I could handle myself better, and I could use Cure pretty much negligently. I still kind of hate that old reptile, though._

 _After that, I got taught how to shoot a gun and fly the_ Strahl _, Balthier's airship. That was the easiest part, actually._

A crack rang across the plain, and a wolf dropped, the bullet passing through its eye and into its brain.

"Huh." Balthier muttered, stroking his well-groomed sideburns. "Well, there you go."

…

The _Strahl_ looped through the air, passing over a bank of clouds by an inch without disturbing it. It spun and flipped through a rocky canyon, barely avoiding an explosive, fiery death by inches, its wings folded behind it as they flew through the crack that led outside. Once it was out, the wings slid open, allowing the ship to soar into the skies.

Saul, at the controls, turned to Balthier with a smirk. "So?" He asked.

Balthier began laughing heartily, slapping his hand on his knee. "That, my friend, was impressive! The corners could've used some tightening, but otherwise, well done!" He reached out, grasping his partner's shoulder. "We're ready."

 _It was the first time Balthier called me 'friend'. Not, 'My man,' or 'partner', but friend. It felt good. Honestly, he felt like the brother I might've had at one point. And I was ready for my first act of Piracy. Sky Piracy._

…

Saul awoke when the barred carriage stopped suddenly, squinting the bright sunlight. _Must be about noon._ He thought, trying to judge the position of the sun. Not something easy to do when in a rolling cage. Fran was looking as unflappable as ever, merely giving him a small smile when he looked at her. Vaan was still unconscious, though judging by the snoring he had actually fallen asleep.

He wouldn't hold that against the young man. They had been fighting through the night and the morning, the fact they were underground hiding the changing of the day. And the blue crystals could only do so much for fatigue.

"Up you get!" An Imperial barked through his helmet. Saul privately wondered how the soldiers could stand the heat in full armor. _Maybe they stuff Motes of Ice in there?_ He edged around the sleeping blond, allowing himself to be led through the large stones doors of Nalbina Dungeons.

They were stopped in small room that held a multitude of chests and stripped any weapons or items from them, storing what they had surrendered back in the Waterway there as well. Saul had his armor removed, though they didn't insist on Fran doing the same, thankfully. They probably thought, with the way it hugged her lithe form, that it only looked like armor.

One of the Imperials examined the wooden tube he found in Balthier's pouch closely, trying to determine what it was. "Oi, Prisoner!" He called, wiggling the tube in the pirate's face. "What's this?"

Balthier gave the man a strange look. "It's a flute." He replied simply. "You blow in it, and sounds come out."

The guard cuffed him roughly. "I know what a flute is!" He tried to twist it, failing because it was one solid piece. "Why won't it move?"

"It just one piece." The pirate replied with a shrug. "It doesn't move. The only moving parts involved with my flute was the auger I used to make the holes."

The Imperial glared at him from under his helm. "Things like this always have something hidden inside! Tell me how to open it, or I'll break it!"

Balthier arched an eyebrow. "It. Is. A. Flute." He said clearly, as if speaking to a child. "It doesn't do anything except make music. It's hollow." He was telling the truth, mostly. The stones embedded in the wood would make anyone listening more relaxed and sleepy, but that was about it.

"What's the hold up?" Another Imperial asked, this one wearing thinner, fancier armor.

"Warden, sir! The prisoner refuse to cooperate with information regarding this object!" The soldier replied, straightening his posture and presenting the musical instrument.

Saul got the feeling the Warden was giving the soldier an incredulous look under his helm, possibly questioning the parentage of the man before him. "…It's a flute." He said after a second. "They make music. Put it with the rest of their belongings and get a move on!"

With Vaan being carried behind them, they were led into the dungeons proper. The various prisoners backed away fearfully as the guards marched the pirates past them, holding swords on them while one unlocked their cuffs. Another released the sleeping Vaan from his bonds, dropping him on the floor carelessly. "Here's your food and water ration for the week, thieves." One spat, tossing a small waterskin on the floor, along with what could kindly be called biscuits, and unkindly called biscuit-shaped rocks.

Their job done, the Imperials backed away, the doors slamming shut, leaving the group in the dungeons with the other prisoners looking at them curiously. With a sigh, Balthier knelt down by the blond thief, levering him up onto his shoulders as Fran gathered their 'supplies' and walked ahead, looking for a place to rest for awhile.

She nodded to a large alcove that was unoccupied, with the exception of a mummified bangaa corpse. The pirate shrugged and carefully set Vaan down on a bench, making sure he was comfortable as could be in the situation. He took a seat on the one across from the thief, leaning against the warm stone.

"I sense a leak in the paling." Fran stated, her ears twitching. "There may yet be a way to leave. I will seek it out."

"Stay safe." Saul replied, watching as the viera cast Vanish at herself, causing her form to shimmer and fade. He felt a pair of cool lips touch his cheek, then heard Fran's soft footfalls fade into the dungeon.

He sighed and grabbed a rock-shaped biscuit, resigning himself to waiting for Vaan to waken. He discovered that it had the taste and texture of a rock, and hurt his teeth.

Within an hour, Vaan began to groan and twitch, his eyes flickering open. He made to stand and gasped in pain, grabbing the back of his head tenderly. He saw Balthier waving dryly at him, a question on his lips. "Where are we?" He asked groggily.

"Where else? Prison." The pirate answered blandly, crossing his legs on a bit of rubble. "A dungeon, actually, but not a proper one. They just sealed off the bottom of Nalbina Fortress and call it a dungeon."

Vaan stood unsteadily, quickly shaking off his sleepiness, taking in the area. Most everything was a dull, sandy brown, with faded paint the only remainder of a time where it was clean. Sunlight poured in through dust-clogged lights, and the air stank of dust and decay.

"More like a tomb, really." Balthier added, his face twisting in a grimace. "How lazy of the Imperials."

A shrill, tortured scream echoed through the dungeon, making Vaan jump in shock, nearly tripping over the mummified corpse on the floor. He gasped in surprise, accidentally inhaling a mouthful of dust and coughing heavily. "What?"

"They at least have the ambiance down." The pirate said dryly, fruitlessly brushing dust from his sleeves. He arched an eyebrow at Vaan, who was pointing at the body, looking between him and it incredulously. "It's just a corpse. It won't bite…at least I don't think so. Here." He tossed the waterskin to the thief, who fumbled with it, but managed to hold on. "That's all the water we have, so go easy on it."

Vaan took a long pull, coughing and spluttering and making a face. "This is water is filthy!" He stated, wiping his mouth. He looked around the alcove, just noticing their party was one short. "Where's Fran?"

"Fran sensed a weakness in the paling keeping us here, so she went to see if it could lead to a way out." Balthier replied. "And what did you expect? We're prisoners, not guests." He stretched his arms above his head, cracking his neck. "If you really must have a look around, be cautious. Curiosity kills."

"I'll keep that in mind." The thief muttered as another scream rent the air. He shook his head before quietly stepping out into the dungeon.

"And stay out of trouble!" The pirate called after him, getting comfortable. He spent the next ten minutes tapping a biscuit on the stone wall, then tapping a rock in the same place and finding them to sound exactly the same. After a few seconds, he pocketed the item and stood. "Vaan's probably in trouble."

He strolled through the dungeon with a confident stride, glaring when a hume prisoner growled threateningly at him. Walking through a hall, he found a wide open room at the end, with a high, rounded ceiling. At the center of room was a sunken, sandy pit, lined with rails with four closed gates. A group of prisoners had gathered around the pit, chattering in a mixture of excitement and dread. Stepping up to the pit, Balthier sighed.

Vaan was in the pit, with three seeq slowly approaching him, two holding clubs and drooling excitedly, their eyes dark with bloodlust. " _Filthy hume! Try to interrupt our fun? Well, you're the fun now!"_ The leader, a fat, cobalt seeq growled in his rough language, his pig-like nose twitching in excitement.

"It's definitely filthy down here." Balthier called, disgust evident in his tone. "It's even less of a dungeon, now, more of a sty."

" _What did you say to me, hume?!"_ The seeq leader shouted at him, waving his club threateningly.

The sky pirate spat to the side, cracking his knuckles. "I said…" He whipped a biscuit-rock out of his pocket, hitting the dungeon master in the eye. "You're the filthy one, pork-chop! Did you hear that?" He jumped over the railing smoothly, landing in front of Vaan and the seeq. "You alright, Vaan?"

The thief, one side of his face livid with a fresh bruise, nodded resolutely, preparing for a fight.

The dungeon master laughed mockingly. " _Two humes, double the fun!"_

Balthier smirked dangerously, crooking his fingers before twisting his hand jerkily, a bolt of lightning leaping from his palm to strike the leader. The seeq squealed in pain, jerking back as the pirate punched him in the nose.

The two humes fought cautiously, as while the seeq were slow, they could take a punch and were strong. They weren't too fast, but they had rough, heavy clubs that could cause some damage. Vaan slid under a swing by an orange seeq, punching it in the stomach with a gauntleted fist and hitting it in the head, skipping away as it lashed out at him with a club.

Balthier shocked the dungeon master again, and is it spasmed in pain, he yanked the weapon from its hands and smacked the seeq across the face with the club. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the third seeq trying to corner Vaan. Focusing, he spun on his heel, lashing out with the weapon in his hand.

The rusty orange lizard squealed in surprise as something hit it heavily, but there was no one within three feet of it. Balthier swept the dungeon master's legs out from under it and hammered away at its head until it fell still, before going to help the thief.

Vaan had managed to wrest the other club away from the seeq, trapping it under his arm and pulling it away as the blue lizard landed a blow to his side. He kept it at a range, beating it around the head and dodging away when it swiped at him. The seeq squealed in rage and put its head down, charging at the thief.

Vaan backed up against one of the walls of the pit, waiting until the last second to skip out of the way, letting it slam into the wall, flooring it.

The last seeq glanced between the two humes, fear shining in its piggy eyes, before it pushed a gate open and quickly dragged the bodies of its friends away.

Balthier tossed the club on the ground, straightening his cuffs, sharing a victorious look with Vaan as the various prisoners whispered about them. Most of it was good, as the those seeq apparently beat whoever they wanted when they wanted. They sounded glad someone had knocked the trio down several pegs.

The echo of metal rang over the lull of conversation, drawing the attention of the prisoners to a large door above the overlooking the whole room. With a loud rattle, the door slid open, disgorging a company of Imperial soldiers, lead by the Warden.

The prisoners backed away fearfully, quietly skulking away as the company formed up around the steps. Balthier pushed Vaan against the pit wall nearest to the steps, hiding themselves but leaving enough room that the pirate could clearly see through the bars.

The Warden flipped the visor on his helmet up, scanning the area with a critical eye. He humphed quietly, before turning and nodding to someone behind him. It was a forest green bangaa with orange highlights around his eyes, with white scales on his torso. He had some sort of black leather harness on his chest and beak, with multiple ring piercings on his jaw. He was followed by several other bangaa, all as angry and twisted-looking as the first.

"Ba'Gamnan." Balthier growled to himself, his hands balling into fists. His ice blue eyes were fixed on the bangaa, before drifting to the company of Imperials. "Now would be a good time to leave." He muttered to Vaan.

A soft click pulled them to a gate to their right as Fran stepped into view, beckoning them with a jerk of her head. The gate was opened enough to allow the humes to slip through, but not enough to draw attention from the Imperials. "There's a way out through the oubliette, but…"

"But you sense the Mist." Balthier finished for her, frowning in distaste as his partner nodded. He lay on his stomach and crawled under the gate, dusting himself off on the other side and helping Vaan up.

A sudden shout made them pause, looking as the bangaa and the Warden argued loudly, insults thrown back and forth like a ball, until Ba'Gamnan turned on the Warden threateningly. "Maybe I'll whet my blade on you before I kill Balthier!" He poked the Warden's chestplate tauntingly. Vaan shot a surprised look at the sky pirate, though he did expect someone like Balthier would be chased by someone wanting his head.

The swordsmen in the company gripped the hilts of their swords in preparation, before an irritated voice spoke up.

"That's enough, Ba'Gamnan!" It came from an almost larger-than life figure, wearing armor that was more ornate and well made then the other Imperials, heavier and with an aura of power.

"A Judge." Fran sighed in bland dismay.

Vaan gave her a curious face. "Judge?"

"'The guardians of Law and Order in Archadia', at least according to the Empire." Balthier explained, rolling his eyes. "They're the elite soldiers of House Solidor, which effectively makes them the Commanders of the Imperial Army. If you ask me, they're less 'judge' and more 'executioner'."

The thief blanched, looking at the intimidating figure descending down the steps, making the nasty-looking bangaa back up a few steps. "Oh. That's not good."

"No." Balthier agreed dryly. "They're not the friendliest bunch. And it's just our luck that one would come here today."

"The Emperor is willing to overlook race for his more talented servants; however, those that do not show respect will receive none in return." The Judge's voice was sharp and direct, and he cut off the bangaa before he could protest. "You travel freely through these lands because the Emperor wills it, correct?"

Ba'Gamnan searched for the right words to use, but gave up the argument as useless. It warmed the cockles of Balthier's heart to see the bangaa get taken down a bit - even by an Imperial. The Judge, his target of ire thus brow-beaten, turned and began to descend down the steps, the Warden quickly following him as they strode toward the oubliette.

The headhunting bangaa turned to his brothers and sister, barking out orders. "He's here somewhere! Find Balthier and bring him out!"

The bangaa spread out as the trio of thieves watched the Judge walk away. "Time for the hare to follow the fox, I guess." Balthier muttered, shrugging and folding his hand.

"What do you mean?" Vaan asked in confusion, before blinking in surprise as Balthier faded from sight.

Fran had done the same, turning invisible even as she spoke. "The magicks binding the door to the oubliette are quite strong. Not even my talents can break them." The thief felt an odd cooling sensation rolling over his skin, and it seemed like the shadows grew in size, while Balthier and Fran reappeared, looking like statues made of clear glass.

"They'll open the door for the Judge, and we'll slip right through before they even know we're there." Balthier finished with a smirk

"What is this?" The blond asked in wonder, waving his arm in front of his face.

"Vanish. It's a spell that turns whatever it's cast on invisible. Very useful for persons in the thieving career. I'm surprised you don't know it." The pirate replied quietly as he peeked around the pit, watching for the bangaa.

Vaan blinked, just realizing what their escape plan consisted of. "Wait, how is going further in this place going to get us out?"

"If she says there's a way out, there's a way out. Viera's are sharp, and Fran's senses have never led us wrong as long as I've known her." Balthier whispered, before shushing the thief. "This is an invisibility spell, not silencing spell, so hush."

The trio snuck around the edge of the pit, just below where Ba'Gamnan stood overlooking the arena like a sentry. Once out the wide, circular room, they jogged through a set of winding halls, picking the pace up slightly upon noticing that area was devoid of Imperials for the time being.

Balthier slid to a halt as they passed a familiar room. "The Prison Repository! Perfect." He grinned happily, stepping into the room.

"Our stuff is here?" Vaan asked, noting the chests and sacks of things.

"Indeed." The pirate replied, cracking open a chest and making a sound of satisfaction. "There we are." Inside the chest was his armor and weapons. Quickly, he strapped his armor on, all two pieces of it, along with his rifle harness, the holster on his thigh and his belt. His pouch, which, like most bags and containers, had been magically expanded on the inside to hold far more than something of its size should, went on his belt.

His rifle went on his back and the sword he stole from the treasury was sheathed. The sword itself was plain, for the most part, with the exception of the materials. The hilt was wrapped in alternating dark brown and black leather, with a bronze crossguard that had a carving of the sun in the center. The blade was made of dark metal, though the edges shined silver. Oddly, the hilt looked like it was missing a few gems, with one large empty slot on the pommel and six others on either side of the crossguard.

Balthier accepted Fran's bow and stored it in his pouch, before slipping the red bangle had gotten from Firemane on his wrist and the gem from the same with the rest of his equipment.

Vaan adjusted the sword at his hip for comfort, glancing over as the pirate pulled the strange platinum gun from the chest. "Hey, Balthier." He said quietly, getting his attention. "I was wondering, what is that?" He pointed at the gun in the holster.

"This?" Balthier patted the grip. "It's called Invictus. It's a unique gun that needs to be reloaded after every ten shots instead of just one. I can put scrap metal into my belt and it will make ammo, storing it in these cartridges here." He pointed the various bits out. "I don't know how it really works, but I'm guessing some sort of advanced magic."

Fran, her oaken pole resting comfortably on her back, interrupted before they could talk. "Now is not the time for conversation." She rebuked sternly. "Speak of your toys later, when we are not escaping."

Balthier smiled sheepishly. "Right you are. Let's move."

They dashed down the hallways as a loud creak rang through the air. Rounding the corner, they found the door to oubliette beginning to close. Putting on a burst of speed, Balthier sped through it, closely followed by Fran as Vaan slipped through at the last second. He slid to a stop, hopping behind the wall around the door.

He put a finger to his lips, pointing around the outcropping. "There are more Imperials than prisoners here." He whispered, already going through the motions for Vanish. Setting it on himself and then casting it on Vaan, he put a finger to his lips. "We've had our fill of chains, I'd say. Tread lightly, but quickly. This spell doesn't last forever."

Balthier slipped around the outcropping, darting through open space to a pillar in the middle of the room, with his companions following him. "There." Whispered Vaan, gesturing to a set of steps leading up around the room.

Nodding, the group snuck up the steps and past a duo of quietly chatting Imperials. They slipped down a hallway just as the spell faded. As they walked, the jingling of multiple sets of armor filled the air, and the trio slowed down as to not overtake the Judge and his followers.

Creeping through the halls and nearing the last door, Balthier paused and peered around the corner.

The group of Imperials stopped in front of a door that was covered cobalt vines that magically locked the door. The Imperial Magus of the group stepped up, chanting a phrase as his clasped hands lit up. The vines were engulfed in ethereal blue flames, blue sparkles glittering in the air. The flames shone with bright light, making the Warden grunt in pain as the vines slithered away, and the doors swung open.

The way now open, the Judge and his posse strode inside. The trio of thieves waited until they were out of sight before quietly following. They took an off-shooting corridor that led to a small, unused room, that overlooked the central room, and waited there for the Imperials to leave.

The room was large, though most of it was blocked off by piles of rubble, and a pit with depths that went black was the dominant feature. Clinking chains sang as a soldier pulled on a lever, a pulley retrieving a cage from the depths of the pit. Inside the cage, chained to the bars to the point that he could not move, was a man. He had filthy, matted brown hair and a beard to match, and his once muscular frame was emaciated.

The Judge approached the cage, looking up at the chained prisoner for a second, before reaching up and pulling off his horned helm, revealing a surprisingly young face beneath the intimidating visage.

"You have grown very thin, Basch." The Judge commented emotionlessly, making Vaan gasp and peek through a barred window into the room. Balthier looked carefully, noting the way the two men seemed similar. "Less than a shadow. Less than a man. Sentenced to death…and yet, you still live. Why, I wonder?" He asked rhetorically.

"To silence Ondore." The prisoner hissed, his voice dry and ragged. "How many times must I say it?"

"Is that all?" The Judge asked.

The prisoner lifted his head to glare at the armored figure, and Balthier's eyebrows rose in realization. _Put a beard on the Judge and let his hair grow out, and they'd be twins. Brothers, maybe?_ "Why not ask Vayne himself? Is he not one of your masters?" The man spat the word as if it were diseased.

The Judge made of sound of dissatisfaction. "We've caught a leader of the Insurgence. She's being brought from Rabanastre, a woman named 'Amalia'."

Basch looked up with a low gasp.

"Who could that be, I wonder?" The Judge asked, his tone taunting as if he already knew the answer. When the prisoner failed to rise to the bait or answer, he shook his head. "Such a faithful hound, to cling to a fallen kingdom."

"Better than throwing it away!" That got a rise from Basch.

The Judge slid his helm back on, his voice gaining a metallic tinge. "Throwing it away? Like you threw away our homeland?" He didn't wait for answer, having already turned to leave, his posse falling in behind him.

When they passed the room the trio waited in, Balthier emerged, his eyes on the Judge's red and black cloak. _Definitely brothers. Only they could be such dicks to each other._ They strode over to the pit, and he looked down into the blackness. "This is it?" He asked, ignoring the prisoner.

"The Mist is flowing through this room." Fran answered, nodding her head at the pit. "It has to be going somewhere."

Balthier hummed. "How do we get down, though?"

"You!" Basch called desperately, "You're not Imperials. Please, you must release me!"

The sky pirate waved him off negligently. "It's against my policy to speak to the dead, they tend to be rather bitey." He glanced at the emaciated prisoner briefly. "Especially the ones who slay kings." He and royalty had never seen eye-to-eye, but Raminas had been one of the good ones. One did not become a beloved king by being a tyrant, after all. And his daughter had been quite the beauty, but that was completely tertiary to the matter.

"I did not kill him!" The prisoner protested vehemently.

"Oh? Is that so?" Balthier favored him a thin smile, the kind parents everywhere gave their kids when they lied. "Glad to hear it." And then he went back to ignoring him in favor of contemplating the way out.

Basch, seeing that he was making no headway with the sky pirate, turned to a pale Vaan, who was staring at him with wide eyes. "Please, you must get me out, for the sake of Dalmasca!"

This was the wrong thing to say. Vaan's face twisted in anger and he leaped over the ledge, clinging to the bars of the cage like an enraged monkey. "Dalmasca?!" The thief shouted, his voice echoing through the room as he shook the cage. "What do you care about Dalmasca?! Everything that's happened is because of you! Everyone who's died, every-single-one…even my brother…" He sobbed with a mixture of anger and repressed sadness. "You killed my brother _you son of a bitch!"_

"Well, the guards definitely heard that." Balthier commented calmly. "We need to get out, now!"

Fran kicked the lever mechanism strongly, shattering the metal. "I'm dropping it!" She warned, leaping onto the top.

The sky pirate rolled his eyes in dismay. "Pirates without a sky." He sighed, before jumping onto the cage as it dropped into the depths. The blackness swallowed them, the walls rushing past at a breakneck pace. The cage bounced off the narrow walls, twisting and hurling the thieves off of the top and onto the stone floor painfully.

Balthier pushed himself up, clearing the dust from his lungs and brushing himself clean. Clean as could be, anyway. "This is twice in as many days we fallen somewhere with no way back up." He grumbled, helping Fran to her feet.

The cage had been smashed against the walls hard enough to dislodge the bottom and the chains holding Basch prisoner, allowing the emaciated man to slip out. He knelt on the floor, panting in a mixture of shock and surprise, rubbing his scabbed and scarred wrists that were free of chains for the first time in years.

Vaan gave an enraged scream as he charged at the kneeling kingslayer, tackling him to the ground, bringing his fist back. Balthier swooped forward, wrapping his arms around the blond's torso and hauling him off of the traitor. "Easy! Easy, Vaan! Now is not the time for this!" He pulled the struggling thief away from Basch.

"He killed my brother! I'll kill him!" Vaan snarled, still trying to escape and reach the traitor to pummel him into the next life.

"I know you want revenge, Vaan, I understand it, but this is not the time nor the place for it." Balthier said quickly, feeling the blond slow and stop, panting.

"What do you know about revenge?" He whispered, blinking away hot tears.

The sky pirate sighed, releasing the blond but wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "That bangaa back there, the green one? He…he killed my best friend, my brother in all but blood. I wanted nothing more than to kill that bastard for what he did, but…" He breathed a harsh exhalation, raking a hand through his platinum brown hair. "There are more important things right now, like getting you back home. We're stuck in a dangerous place, with no idea on how to get out. We need all the help we can get."

Vaan sighed in resignation, his shoulders slumping. "You're right, Balthier. We need to get out of here. But as soon as we do…" He glared at Basch, clenching his fists.

"I'll hold him down so you can kick his ass." Balthier agreed, suddenly realizing that his accent had faded. "Now, chin up, Vaan. The day's not over yet." He patted the younger man's back, looking at Basch. "We could use another sword arm."

The former soldier stood steadily, despite the years of bondage. "And you have it." He replied honestly, before looking down at his empty hands. "Though I have no sword."

"That's fine with me," Vaan bit out coldly, turning on his heel and walking off. "You'd probably stab us in the back with it."

Basch flinched as if physically struck. "I…"

"We can converse of guiltiness when we aren't deep underground." Fran interjected calmly, her heels tapping on the dusty stone floor as she walked. The group, now one larger, walked cautiously through the dusty passage, a soft, metallic skittering echoing from farther on.

Balthier reached into his pouch and withdrew a flask, shaking it next to his ear. There was barely any sloshing, so it was full. He popped the cap off, taking a deep drink of the cold liquid, sighing in satisfaction. He tapped Vaan on the shoulder and handed it off; and once Vaan was done, he passed it to Fran, who gave it to Basch, who greedily gulped the last of the water down, instantly looking contrite as he held the empty container out to the sky pirate.

Balthier chuckled lowly as he took the flask, retrieving a softly glowing blue stone from his pouch. He cracked it on the rim like an egg, and water gushed forth from the halves, pouring inside swiftly. "I suspect whatever solitary confinement they kept you in wasn't designed for unnecessary comforts, like healthy amounts of food and water." He joked, handing the flask back.

Basch shook his head ruefully, drinking deeply. "No, it was not. I thank you." He said gratefully, giving it back after having his fill.

Balthier nodded in reply, noticing Vaan giving him a questioning look over his shoulder. "What?" He asked with a shrug. "Dehydration is not a good thing, you know."

The thief shook his head, tilting his head in curiosity as he beheld a pillar in the middle of the hall, a dim light shining on an old, rusty metal button. Shrugging, he reached out and pushed the button.

Nothing happened.

"Huh." Vaan muttered, rubbing his chin. "Doesn't work."

Balthier joined him at the pillar, examining the box and the wires around it. "The fuse is blown, so there's no power reaching the switch. If the wiring is any indication, this is a central power relay, but given the condition of everything down here, I doubt we'll find anything running down here." He explained.

They continued on, walking into a wide, dark room with a large central pillar. They were at the top of a staircase, so the group descended, finding another light-lit switch and a blue bangaa sitting on the floor calmly. He waved them over with a cheerful greeting. "Don' get many visitors down here. Come scavengin' for odds and ends, have you?"

"Er, no." Vaan replied quickly. "We're looking for a way out, actually."

"Ah," The bangaa nodded sagely, before pointing back the way they came. "The way it out is just up those stairs-"

Balthier coughed sheepishly. "It's…blocked off back there."

"Blocked off?!" The merchant asked in shock. "Oh. Well, then there's nothing left but find some other through these tunnels. You'll need to get the power working again, though, before this gate'll budge." He rapped the rusty metal gate he was sitting near. "The fuse in that contraption upstairs is blown, though…but this ought to fix it up."

Fran took the makeshift fuse from the bangaa, examining it with a critical eye. "I suspect it will work just fine, though it is handmade." She commented, pocketing the fuse.

"Oh aye, lass, made that tube fuse from parts I found in these very tunnels." The bangaa replied with a grin. "It's good as any you'll find and better than most, mark my words."

The viera tapped Vaan on the shoulder and lead him back up the steps to fix the fuse while the others stayed behind. Basch hummed to himself as he saw something in the dim light, while Balthier turned to the merchant. "Do you have any food I can buy?"

"Aye, that I do, along with various other odds and ends." The bangaa nodded. "What're you looking for?"

"Simple things." The pirate replied with a shrug. "Bread, fruit, dried meat."

The merchant reached into his pack, withdrawing the items requested and laying them out on a blanket on the floor. Balthier took his pick of the offerings, grabbing a pair of bread loaves, four starfruits and a package of dried wolf meat. "Do you have any weapons?" He asked as the bangaa totaled his purchase.

"Ah, none that I can sell right now." The merchant shook his head, scaled ears flapping. "I do have a few accessories, armor pieces and spells, though. That'll be seventy-five gil, by the way."

Balthier handed the merchant the coins, before rolling the sleeve up and showing the bangle inset with red stones on his wrist. "Do you know what this is?"

The bangaa examined carefully. "Oh, that's a Red Bangle, an excellently made one at that. It gives protection against fire, and if you use Flame Spells yourself, they should be stronger by half."

The sky pirate bought a Protect spellstone and Blizzard, along with an Armguard. After paying the merchant, he approached Basch, who was looking through an old metal chest. "Find anything interesting?"

The traitor shook his head, holding a handful of gil. "Just coins." He arched an eyebrow as Balthier split one of the loaves, handing half of it to him along with a starfruit and a few strips of dried meat. He wolfed the bread down quickly, tearing into pieces with his teeth. After he finished, Basch gave the amused sky pirate a sheepish look. "Excuse my manners."

Balthier shrugged uncaringly, eating his own half slowly. "I don't mind."

As the former prisoner took a bite of his fruit, he paused in thought. "You are being strangely kind to someone you barely know." He stated, his face confused.

The pirate shrugged again. "If you fall over from a lack of strength, it won't help anyone." He replied plainly, before scratching his chin. "Though my 'mystery' senses are tingling when I think about that conversation the Judge had with you - that, and the fact that you could be twins, yet one is a Judge and the other is a former soldier of Dalmasca. Something tells me there's a deeper mystery to the events that led to your 'execution'. That's a given, seeing as you are currently alive."

Basch sighed, rubbing the scar over his left brow. "It is a long a story." He admitted.

"And not one we have time for right now." Balthier interjected, sensing the man was going to tell it. "It's something we can talk about once we're out of here. And Vaan needs to hear it."

"Right." The former prisoner agreed, taking the armguard offered. "My thanks."

"The merchant didn't have anything in the way of weapons, but it should offer some protection." Balthier replied as a deep humming thrummed through the passages and the lights flickered on, bathing the area in a warm glow. "Ah, seems Fran and Vaan fixed the fuse."

The pair came down the stairs, he approached them and handed off the food he bought. After a quick thanks, they ate their food quickly. Vaan wiped his mouth with his hand, hurriedly catching the glowing stones Balthier tossed at him. "What's this?"

"Protect and Blizzard spellstones." The pirate answered. "I figured you would need them, give you a few more magicks for your arsenal."

"Thanks." The thief said gratefully, looking deeply into the glowing stones. A vision flashed before his eyes, instructions on how to use the spells flowing into his mind. Once he was done, he pocketed the stones and held his hand out, concentrating. Then, Vaan folded his hand as he saw in the vision, a white glow emanating from his palm, before he waved it front of him, a mystical shield springing to life in front of him. It then sank into his body and faded, imbuing him with protective properties.

The quartet gathered as Vaan pressed the gate button. The rusty metal gate slid up into the ceiling with a rumble and the lights flickered. They moved on, walking a short distance and coming to an open room. On the far end, at a point where the stone had crumbled, exposing bare wire, there sat a metallic creature. Energy shot from the wires into it, and the lights flickered and dimmed.

"What is that thing doing?" Vaan asked, pointing at the metallic spider creature.

"Ah, Mimics." Balthier replied, drawing his rifle and firing a shot that made the creature chitter in pain. "Insidious creatures, hiding themselves as random objects, then attacking when you're least wary. Apparently, the ones down here like to gorge themselves on power. I bet if we can kill them fast enough, the power will come back."

"Oh." The thief said, going through the motions of Blizzard. A spike of ice formed in front of him, zipping through the air to smash into the mimic, covering its metallic body with a sheen of frost. "What would happen if it doesn't?"

As if on cue, the ground in front of them cracked as a skeletal hand burst through, followed by a body with the tattered remains of light armor clinging to it, holding a rusted sword in one hand. It didn't have eyes, only glowing blue mist filling its eye sockets. It shambled towards them, growling through decayed vocal cords as its hanging jaw flapped with every step.

"The dark invites deadlier creatures to rise." The pirate replied, a gout of fire erupting from his hand, bathing the skeleton in flames. "Let's keep the lights on!"

…

…

…

…

 **A/N: I kind of wanted to get them out of the dungeons, but I also didn't want the chapter to drag on more than it already does, so I'm ending it here. Quite a bit happened this chapter, and I don't want to overload anyone.**

 **So, some differences should've been made apparent already. Compared to Balthier, Saul is warmer and much more friendly and not as self-serving. This, I feel, came across in the part where Vaan tries to kick Basch's ass. In the game, Balthier grabs Vaan by the hand and throws him aside like a misbehaving puppy and basically tells him 'Spare me, and we're working together whether or not you want to.' Saul, on the other hand, pulls him aside and connects with him, revealing a bit of his backstory.**

 **I'm also using the Wiki to fact-check things, plus I have a working PS2 and a copy of the game, so most of what you see in the way of items is true to the game, with the exception of the Red Bangle, which is from FFX and is modified for -50% Fire Damage and +50% Fire Magick. That water stone is also a thing. I remember the first time I saw one of those in the game, I thought, 'man, that would be really useful in a desert.'**

 **So yeah, some more backstory for Saul and generally more stuff. I think the desire is fading a little bit, so hopefully I'll be able to work on something else, because I did literally start this chapter as soon as I posted the first.**

 **I hope you enjoyed, and if you did, why not review and make my day? I been feeling under the weather lately, and you know what they say about laughter being the best medicine: 'What does that have to do with reviewing?'**

 **Stay Awesome.**

 **~Soleneus**

 **P.S.: Why is Invictus there?**

 _ **There is always a gun.**_


	3. The First Score and Escape

_Saul's Journal:_

 _Entry III:_

 _Sky piracy is different from regular piracy, as should have been blatant from the name, though it is similar. For instance, both involve attacking other ships and stealing their shit while not dying in the process, and making a profit off of the stolen goods. The big difference is that, while one takes place in the water, the other takes place in the fucking sky, and that means if you fall off the ship, you won't drop ten or twenty feet into the water: You'll drop hundreds if not thousands of feet through empty air and hit either water or land and people don't generally survive things like that._

 _But while the dangers are increased, so are the angles of attack. On water, you've only got the surface of the ocean and the directions you can attack by, and you can be seen from every one of them. It's also true by air, but you can also attack from above and below and you have clouds to cover you. Plus, airships don't use open-air decks; people generally prefer to have windows between them and gale-force winds, so the only way to really fall off is while being on the outside._

… _Which is exactly how we were getting in, of course._

Balthier slapped a piece of paper on their small kitchen table, unrolling it to reveal the blueprints printed on it. It was the schematics of a Rozzarian transport ship, the kind that carried a small crew and plenty of cargo, with minimal Imperial support. The best kind for the pirate pair to cut their thieving teeth on.

"The turret at the top is for point defense," The pirate informed his partner, tapping the section. "though the usual Rozzarian method of dealing with pirate attacks is to run away as fast as they can, so the first thing we do is cut the main engines." He circled an area at the bottom on the ship, between the hind glossair rings.

Saul frowned in thought. "Won't that make the ship fall?"

"It would, but all airships come with weaker secondary engines that kick in if the main ones get the ghost. After we take out the main engines, the ship will fall for a bit before the secondaries turn on. They keep the glossair rings spinning, but slowly, eventually setting the ship on the ground safely." He winked at Saul, tapping his nose. "At the standard airship height, it should give us plenty of time to grab the cargo and leave before the ship even breaks the lower cloud banks."

"And since we're in Rozzarian territory, the crew won't be on full alert." The broader man finished, a smirk on his face. "Which makes it easier for us to board."

Balthier nodded slowly with a matching smirk. "Exactly."

 _We bribed one of the managers for a ship schedule, which had time of leaving, destination, and estimated time of arrival, which we used to extrapolate where the airship would be at the right time. The right time for us, that is._

A Rozzarian cargo ship flew lazily through the sky, almost floating over a wide, thick cloud bank. It was a simple looking thing, for a highly-complicated flying machine, at least, rectangular with wide, stubby wings and thin windows pointing forward, a squat dual-barreled turret sitting on top. The engines on the back glowed, leaving soft grey contrails flowing behind it.

From clouds underneath, another ship emerged, wings folding out as it picked up speed to close in on its prey. The large forward cannons began to glow, a pair of powerful shots erupting from the barrel to impact the back of the cargo ship, just underneath the engines and between the spinning rings.

The engine sputtered black smoke and the rings slowed to a stop, the ship tilting forward and beginning to drop. Before it had gone a hundred feet, the small back-up engines flared to life, the glossair rings spinning once more, but sluggishly.

The _Strahl_ , with a hull mottled in white and sky-blue as to blend in with the clouds, pulled up behind the slowly descending ship, spinning around so that their backs faced each other.

Saul lowered the cargo ramp, Balthier standing on one side of it while he took the other. Both carried hefty, blocky rifle-like weapons, loaded with broad spears. As the _Strahl_ leveled out a little above, they took aim at the back of the cargo ship, firing in tandem, the kick pushing them back. The spears, trailing thick chains, flew across the gap, digging into the hull with small prongs unfolding to anchor the ships together.

The pirates set the grapples aside, readying their equipment. Both wore light armor over their nearly-matching vests, with light gloves that had metal finger tips and dark metal boots, both magicked to stick to metal surfaces to stop them from being thrown by gusts, though it wouldn't withstand heavy wind. If they were made to, neither would be able to move beyond a slow walking pace. They also wore face-concealing masks similar to Archadian Magi, to prevent their eyes from being blinded by the wind, and to make the Rozzarian's think Archadians were attacking them. Just to go with their accents.

Saul had a light mace at his belt, along with a slim dagger, while Balthier carried a slim sword and his rifle on his back. "Ready?" Balthier called.

"As I ever will be!" He replied as they grabbed ahold of the chains and stepped out into the open air.

The pair slid down the chains as the wind rushed around them, landing on the cargo ship's hull with a dull thud. Sticking to the outside, the pirates crawled up behind the turret, keeping themselves low to avoid being swept away. Saul nodded to Balthier, drawing his mace as his partner crawled around to the front of the turret, just below the sentry's sight.

Quietly, Saul stood up, bringing his weapon back. Balthier popped up in front of the sentry, making the man jump in fright and his partner broke through the rear window, dropping his mace and wrapping his arm around the sentry's throat, squeezing his windpipe between his arm and the back of the seat. Saul waited until the sentry fell limp, before releasing the unconscious man to seize his hair and slam his head into the console, just to make sure.

He retrieved his mace as Balthier crawled in, opening the hatch to the interior of the ship and carefully descending the ladder until he was halfway. He turned himself around in the narrow tube, hooking the top of his feet on a rung before using the wall to hang himself upside down, his sharp green eyes peering just below the lip.

The pirate took a quick look around, then pulled himself back up. He reached up and tapped the side of Saul's boot, gesturing for the mace. Saul handed it to him between his legs, and watched as Balthier dropped from the ladder, landing on top of an Imperial and knocking him out with a blow to the head.

Saul dropped out behind him, taking his mace back as Balthier drew his gun and they jogged down the narrow corridor. "This way." He muttered, taking a left as they headed for the cockpit.

A low red light illuminated the corridor, having been turned on by the engines being taken out. The pirates paused upon approaching the cabin, spying two Imperials standing guard around the door. As one, they twisted their hands in a practiced motion, lightning sparking to life between their fingers. They stepped around the corners and shocked the guards with Thunder, stunning the metal-clad soldiers and leaving them open to the knock-out attacks from a mace and the butt of a gun.

"There should be three pilots." Balthier murmured, waving his hand in a complicated pattern. "At my word…"

Saul hovered his hand above the door console, flipping it open when his partner barked "Now!"

Balthier swung inside the cockpit, releasing the Blindga spell he had made, three tendrils of dark energy whipping from his hand to impact the trio of pilots in the eyes, causing them to shriek in shock and dismay. The pirates rushed in, knocking the trio out before they could do anything more then flail.

Balthier took to the console, examining the buttons and switches. "The crew should be performing emergency repairs right now, so…" He flicked a row of switches, quiet thuds ringing faintly through the ship. "There. The doors are locked, so they won't be able to interfere."

Saul nodded in understanding, darting from the cockpit and back the way they came, leaping up and climbing the ladder up to the turret, slipping through the window. He crawled along the hull to the grappling anchors, which both bore a pair of gems inset in them. They were magicite, colored blue and the other orange. Slapping the blue, the prongs retracted into the anchor, and a touch of the orange activated the gears inside the _Strahl_ , pulling the anchors back inside.

Saul detached the other anchor, grabbing it tightly as he hit the orange gem, getting pulled up into their ship. He let go as he entered the ship, sliding along the floor before running down the hall to the cockpit, grabbing the controls. He looped the _Strahl_ around the cargo ship so that the back was facing the cargo ship's bay, jumping from the seat and rushing back to the hold, pulling a radio from his belt. "Balthier, I'm in position."

" _Opening the door now."_ His partner replied quickly.

The bay door jerkily fell open, giving Saul a look into the cargo hold stacked with crates and chests. Grabbing the rifles, his fired the grappling hooks into the bay, activating the winches and pulling the _Strahl_ back so that the doors nearly touched. "I'm in!"

" _Remember, the most valuable loot will be marked with the Rozzarian Empire's crest, so grab those first."_ Balthier reminded.

"Right." Saul got to work, quickly searching through the hold to find marked chests and crates. When he did, he cast a variant of the Float spell, making the items he cast it on lift about two feet off of the ground and follow behind him. After ten minutes passed, he had a veritable conga line of loot trailing behind him. He rushed back to the doors, pushing the crates and chests through into the _Strahl_. Once that was done, he searched through the hold again.

The cargo was marked with specific stamps to denote what was being carried. Dark green for vegetables, light green for fruit, orange for baked goods, red for meat, and grey for weapons and armor. Floating a few of each into the _Strahl_ , Saul turned his radio on again. "I've got what we came for." He couldn't stop his voice from shaking with excitement.

Balthier sounded triumphant. " _Excellent! I'm on my way!"_

Saul unhooked the anchors and got back in the cockpit, his hands twitching on the controls. Balthier raced through the cargo ship, his knowledge of the schematics coming in handy as soldiers followed behind him, shouting obscenities at his back. He burst into the cargo hold with the soldiers close behind, pulling an item from his pouch and dropping it to the floor as he went. It rolled to a stop before exploding in a blinding flash of light and choking cloud of smoke. He jumped the short gap into his ship, rapping the metal wall sharply. The _Strahl_ pulled away as the soldiers recovered, coming to the open door just in time to see Balthier give them a jaunty, mocking salute as the door closed and the ship dived into the clouds.

Balthier planted himself in the copilot's chair, the pair sitting in tense silence as Saul flew them far away from the cargo ship. After an hour of continuous flight and silence, they set down on an empty plateau, the illusion around the _Strahl_ fading to show its true colors.

Quietly, they removed their masks and looked at each other. "So…" Saul began slowly, his face twitching. "We just robbed an airship of all its valuables and got away clean."

Balthier nodded slowly, losing the fight as he broke out into a wide, ecstatic grin. The two pirates stood from their seats and hugged each other, laughing and cheering loudly.

 _Our first act of piracy together was a resounding success, to say the least. No one died and we got away clean with all the cargo we wanted, plus extra. The marked cargo held the most interesting things, from trade agreements to solid ingots of valuable metal and jewels. One of the chests was filled with gil, and another held a few rare and powerful Spellstones and magicite, all of it worth plenty of money._

 _It took a week to fence all of our ill-gotten gains, but by the time we had, we had enough gil to replace the_ Strahl' _s glossair rings, get the engines tuned and upgrade the guns until it was the most dangerous predator in the sky. There was plenty left over for us, which we spent on food, weapons and clothing. And a wild night in Bhujerba that resulted in me waking up the next morning with a headache and a woman in my bed._

 _Later, I heard that they found a note pinned the controls that read 'Your ship was riding low, so we decided to help out - Balthier and Lex.' I found out from Balthier that 'Lex' literally means 'Law', and when I asked why he called me that instead of Saul, he told me that the irony of a sky pirate named Law was too good to pass up._

 _The seeds of our legend were planted that day…_

…

Another skeleton howled in pain as fire consumed its bones, collapsing in a pile of ash. The end of Fran's staff was driven through the head of a Mimic, the stolen power flowing back into the exposed conduit, the lights flickering back to full strength.

Vaan wiped the sweat from his forehead, sheathing his sword. "How many of these things are there?"

The quartet had been underground for hours, fighting through what seemed to be hordes of skeletons, bats and mimics, getting turned around in crumbling passageways as the lights flickered because another energy-eater was sucking away the power. It had given Basch the time to work out the kinks, and for Vaan to practice with his new spells, and they had come across more than a few chests with gil, potions, and few tufts of Phoenix Down; but just as many 'chests' had been mimics, waiting for them to touch it.

The first time that happened, the mimic had fastened its mandibles on Vaan's arm, giving all of them a fright. They had it killed in short order, but the paranoia stuck, to the point that Fran whacked any chests they came across, just in case they contained any crawling surprises.

The lights began to flicker again. "With as many of the damn beasts there seem to be, something must be spawning them." Balthier muttered, sending a Cure Vaan's way. "Ever onward we go."

They moved on through the passage as the power began to drop. A skeleton that assembled in front of them was frozen from an icicle by Balthier and shattered back into pieces by Fran. As they came around a corner into a corridor, Vaan paused, pointing. "Is that…?"

"A Bomb." Basch answered gruffly.

The round glowing creature seemed to pay them no mind, its face etched in a demonic grin, its stubby arms bouncing in time to its bobbing through the air. A mimic at the other end of the corridor chattered and skittered toward them from the exposed wiring, electricity wreathing its body as it jerked and twitched, send a bolt of lightning hurtling towards them.

Vaan got his shield up in time, cursing as his arm spasmed and went numb. Before the group could attack, however, the Bomb wailed in anger and rushed at the mimic, battering it with its body. "They don't like magick." Balthier commented dryly, watching the two creatures attack each other. His eyes went wide as the Bomb began to flicker and glow. "Back up!"

The group backed away around the corner as the Bomb exploded, kicking up a cloud of dust and smoke. The lights shined brighter after a second. "That was kind of it." Basch muttered as they found the twisted remains of the mimic.

They continued through the passage, thankfully finding what seemed to be a straight path that was wide and well lit, with the occasional bat dropping down to harass them. They stopped upon spying the corpse of an adventurer, a recent one if the level of decay was anything to go by. The others took a break as Basch stripped the body of armor and weapons after bowing respectfully, Vaan watching the traitor with wary eyes.

The adventurer must have been from Rabanastre, given the light armor that covered the shoulders, stomach and shins and the sandals. With the tight black and orange shirt, and his matted hair pulled back into a rough ponytail, they could see the soldier Basch once was, though it left the long scar that struck through his left eyebrow blatant.

Fran sniffed the air, grimacing. "The Mist seethes." She told her partner, her amber eyes fixed on his blue.

"We're getting closer to the end of this place," He replied, crossing his arms. "But, knowing our luck, the exit will be blocked by whatever unsettles the Mist."

Basch finished dressing, retrieving a longsword near the body and giving it a few test swings. His movements were choppy, but smoothed out as he went through a few kata.

Vaan glanced at Balthier, his visage serious. "He's walking in front of us." He said, not caring if the former soldier heard him.

Basch stiffened, looking at the young thief with sad eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but the pirate cut him off. "Still not the time to converse. Once we are in the open air, then we can talk." He ordered sternly, nodding down the passageway. "If you would take point, Captain."

Sighing, the traitor nodded in agreement and led the party further down. Unlike their earlier experiences, they saw only a few mimics and skeletons, and that put them on edge, an aura of danger building in the air. They gripped their weapons tightly as they carefully tread down a narrow corridor.

Fran suddenly spoke up. "I hear something ahead. Thick, viscous liquid and the thrumming of energy. We are coming upon the final challenge." She immediately went through the motions for Bubble, casting it on her partner as he formed Protect spells. Once their magical protections were in place, they cautiously moved on.

Balthier watched the viera's face, noting the minute tightness around her eyes and mouth. She was worried. Without a word, he slipped his hand into hers, running his thumb over the back of her hand. She glanced at him, squeezing it in thanks, the tightness fading slightly as her lips twitched into an almost invisible smile. He winked at her, nearly running into Vaan's back as the thief gazed at something overhead.

The pirate went to ask what the problem was, only to see it for himself.

It was massive, dominating the wide room, thirty times the size of the regular mimics, colored with bright blues and greens along the legs, with the thorax and abdomen bearing all the colors of the rainbow, patterned like stained glass. A pair of glass-like wings floated on its back and it gave off an electronic roar.

The tiny mimics scattered around the room sprang to life, scuttling across the stone to the multitude of exposed wires, greedily sucking the energy away, causing the rusted gate above the party to slam down.

They dove away to relative safety, coming up with weapons ready. "Go for the legs!" Basch called, crushing a tiny mimic under his sandal as Balthier fired at the Queen's body. The traitor and Fran attacked the long, arching legs while the pirate took shots at it a distance, and Vaan attempted to clear the babies.

The smaller mimics seemed entirely uninterested in fighting, flocking to the exposed wires to feed. Seeing as he wasn't making a dent in the population, Vaan turned his attention to the Queen, hurling an icicle at it before darting forward to hack at a leg.

Basch chipped away at his target, exposing a glowing vein beneath the metallic skin. His sword dug into it, shocking him but making the Queen screech in pain and collapse to the floor. "It falls!" Fran shouted, and they darted in to attack the body directly.

Balthier slashed at the Queen's head, severing a mandible as the others swung away. However, the Queen recovered quickly, leaping to its feet and flapping its wings, unleashing a gust of wind that sent the party flying away from it. It turned about, focusing on the tallest figure in the room, electricity crackling over its form before releasing it.

The bolt of lightning slammed into Fran, throwing her on her back with a shout pain. Balthier fired another shot at its head before dashing over to his partner, batting away the small mimics that skittered around her form. Quickly folding his hand, he sent a strong Cure at her as the Queen turned its attention to Basch.

The pirate scowled fiercely as Fran slowly pushed herself up, his hand descending to his thigh, his fingers wrapping around Invictus' grip. With a smooth, practiced motion, he drew the gun from the holster, taking aim and pulling the trigger.

Shot after shot ripped through the Queen Mimic, making it squeal and roar in agony. After ten thunderous shots, the weapon clicked to signify it being empty, and Balthier holstered it, drawing his sword with a concentrated visage. His body began to flicker and glow, his eyes narrowing on the large creature.

Vaan started in shock as his vision was covered in black, fading away to reveal Balthier standing in what seemed to be empty space, the room and the others gone. He couldn't move or speak to ask what was happening, and could only watch as the pirate flourished his sword.

Balthier took up a sword stance, his arm cocked back with the tip pointing at the still Queen Mimic, his form glowing with ethereal light. Then, he brought his sword down, the slash leaping through empty air to cut through the Queen. He swung and swung, the slashes seemingly cutting into reality itself. With one final cut, he held up his left hand, an orb of fire springing to life. The pirate clasped his flaming hand to his sword and brought it up, stabbing the tip deep in the ground. The earth cracked in a straight line towards the queen, glowing orange, and the ground buckled underneath it, a geyser of flame erupting from the stone, engulfing the creature and Vaan's sight. "Look out below!"

When the light faded, the room was still empty, but Fran had taken Balthier's place, her form covered in blue energy. She unleashed a fierce flurry of furious fists, still impacting the Queen despite the distance, before growling and taking a stance that caused the creature to explode in fire.

Once again, Vaan's vision was overtaken by white, fading back into empty space, but with Basch instead of the pirates. He held an orb of cyan and black energy between his hands, his eyes fierce as he pulled it in two, before recombining them and firing a beam of eldritch energy at the Queen.

The motes of light that had been filling the air glowed brightly, flowing into the air above the Mimic Queen and forming into a giant red-and-blue seal that shone with energy, before bursting into a massive wave of fire, washing over the room.

Despite the flames, Vaan's hair was barely ruffled, and he didn't even feel any heat, much to his confusion.

The Queen Mimic stumbled, its body red hot and sparking, collapsing against a pillar. The impact shattered the column and the wall around it, and a gate leading out. It must have been a load-bearing pillar, because the distant roof crumbled and fell, raining giant chunks of rock on the now panicking mimics.

The party slipped by the dead Queen, sprinting down the corridor as the passage collapsed around them. They raced into the open air just in time, the corridor crumbling with a mighty crash, expelling a cloud dust.

Balthier coughed, waving the dust away from him and taking a deep breath of the fresh air. He sighed in content, letting the low light of the setting sun wash over his grimy, dusty skin. He glanced at his compatriots, finding them doing much the same. Basch looked to be on the verge of crying with joy, his eyes closed.

"I never knew Dalmascan air could taste so sweet…" He whispered, the wind ruffling his matted hair.

The sun hung low and red in the sky, washing over the dunes and small rock spires. Vaan pointed into the distance, gesturing towards the thick blue river that carved through the sand. "We're in the Estersand. There's a little village just over there on the banks of the Nebra. They have a teleporter crystal there, and I think I have enough gil to buy a stone to take us back to Rabanastre."

By the time the party of four finished their trek across the dunes, the sun had truly set and night had fallen over the land. They had found the teleport crystal, which looked exactly like the refreshing crystals except colored burnt orange, sitting in the air, not rotating or glittering in the slightest, which meant the network was down for the night. And unless the group, one of which had been imprisoned for two years and the others had fought through the night in a sewer, had gotten, at most, three hours of fitful sleep before also fighting through a monster-infested underground passageway, wanted to also travel across miles of desert to city that was closed down for the night, that meant they had to stay put for the time being.

Balthier rented a quartet of bedrolls for the night, along with some provisions and they decided to camp out on the banks of the river. As he lit the fire, the pirate watched out of the corner of his eye as Basch stepped into the river, trailing his hands through the water like a child, before diving into it with gusto, laughing joyously as he broke the surface. The former soldier scrubbed the filth of two years in prison away with handfuls of sand and zeal, and when he walked back onto land, his eyes were alight and his steps were nearly jaunty.

The pirate set a medium cauldron over the fire, after filling it with water and herbs to boil for stew. He and his partner used their rolled-up bedrolls for seats around the fire as Basch approached them soaking wet, letting the heat from the fire dry him off. Vaan had stepped into the river a minute before and joined them a bit later, looking refreshed.

As the water began to bubble, Balthier pulled a dagger and began to cut meat and vegetables into chunks, throwing them in the pot. "Now that we're not trapped in a passage full of creatures, I think we should hear your story, Captain." He offered, his eyes flicking up to look at the traitor.

"You mean traitor." Vaan added, glaring at Basch over the fire. Balthier flicked sand at the thief, giving him a flat stare.

"I'm no traitor." Basch rebuked, almost sadly. "The story is not simple and I hardly believe it myself, but upon my word, I swear that all of it is true."

Lost in memory, his gazeless eyes fixed on the fire, Basch fon Ronsenburg of Dalmasca relayed his story to them; how he, after Vaan's brother Recks, had volunteered to hold off the Imperials while he secured the king, had stormed into the throne room with his troops…only to find King Raminas dead, and the room filled with Imperial soldiers. He and his men fought valiantly, but they had numbers, and one-by-one, his comrades fell until only he was left.

Basch had been captured, brought low by the Imperials and forced to watch as his twin brother, dressed as him, stabbed Recks and confessed to treason in his name. He managed to fight off his captors with strength borne of fury and attacked his brother, but the man he had once shared a childhood with had defeated him, scarring him over the eye and imprisoning him, never to see the light of day again.

When he had finished, the sound of nocturnal insects and the crackling of fire filled the night air. The thieves felt disbelief. His tale was too fantastic to believe, but they had seen Basch's twin, Gabranth, in the depths of Nalbina Dungeons, and his story made too much sense to be false.

"What…what became of your brother?" Basch managed to ask, his eyes landing on Vaan. "He spoke of you when we met, and I wondered…"

Vaan sniffed, his eyes red. "He's dead." He said bluntly, his voice low. "I don't know what to believe anymore."

"While he may have passed, your brother loved you very much, Vaan." Balthier spoke up, his eyes fixed on the pot. "If you must have something to believe in, believe in him."

"Recks may have been a soldier for his homeland, but he fought to the last for you." Basch added, his eyes sad. "It may not be what you want to hear, but I am truly sorry for what happened."

Vaan shook his head quietly. "Don't talk right now. I…I need quiet."

Nodding in understanding, the soldier turned his gaze back to the fire.

Fran, who had been sitting on her bedroll with enviable grace and poise for a tired woman seated around a campfire on the beach, reached over and patted Balthier's knee, nodding her head towards the water and leaving. The pirate added his seasonings, and stirred the stew. "Make sure it doesn't burn." He ordered the other two, before standing and following his partner.

He followed her footsteps down the coast, out of sight of the campfire and the village huts. He found her armor and clothing piled at the edge of the water, her lithe form gliding gracefully through the river. He undressed quickly, stepping into the cold water.

He stood by her side in the river, the water rising around his stomach. She glanced at him briefly before gazing at the moon. "I see danger in our path ahead." She murmured softly, her voice spilling from her lips like silk. "I…I fear we may not survive what is to come."

"All the more reason to live while we have the chance." He replied quietly, slipping his hand into hers. "Whatever danger we may face, Fran, as long as we stay together, we can live through anything."

"Saul…" He loved the way her accented voice formed his name. Fran turned to face him, her amber eyes gleaming with emotion in the low light. "Imperial ambushes, bounty hunters, and the great beasts we have faced are nothing to what I see coming. I am…afraid for us." She whispered hesitantly.

Saul brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles gently. "Don't be." He said simply, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek. She closed her eyes and nuzzled his palm, leaning on him. In the comforting silence between them, he gazed at her, as awestruck by the viera as the day they first met.

The reflection of the moon off of the water played over her dusky skin, her long, silver-white hair shining and cascading down her back like a silken waterfall. The length of her smooth legs and the tautness of her flat stomach and the rounded peaks of her breasts enticed and aroused him. Her supple lips and rounded cheeks teased him, and her glittering amber eyes drew him in like a vortex.

He turned her head and gently pressed his lips to hers, her arms sliding around his back as they quietly kissed in the moonlight. Saul pulled away, whispering, "Let me take your mind off of the future." He wrapped his arms around her waist intimately, then leaned back.

He enjoyed the brief picture of the stoic viera's eyes going wide in surprise before the water engulfed them both. He felt her strong, long-nailed hands pushing him away and he surfaced a few feet from her, chuckling. Fran stared at him in shock, before her eyes glimmered and her lips curved into a small playful smile. "So, that is how you want to play, you wicked beast?" She purred. "Then let's play."

She dove through the water, seizing his waist and pulling him under the surface, trying to trap him. Fran had strength and reach, but Saul was naturally slippery, and she chased him around the small area of the Nebra, their route eventually taking them back on the bank.

Fran eventually pinned Saul to the wet sand, straddling his hips and holding his arms down, her caramel eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Twas a challenging hunt, but in the end, as usual, I won." She murmured, her voice husky and low.

His arms pinned but his hands free, the sky pirate waved at them. "Then, as they say, to the victor go the spoils." He tried to keep his tone even, but the way his heart began to thunder and his loins stirred betrayed him.

The viera atop him smirked knowingly, leaning in until her nose touched his and her eyes dominated his vision. "And what spoils they are." She whispered before kissing him passionately. Her hands slid up his arms and their fingers intertwined, and their bodies soon followed.

…

When they finally finished intimately exploring each other, the two came back to the fire to find Basch and Vaan nearly done eating bowls of stew. Balthier and Fran joined them and in short order their food was consumed and their bedrolls laid out. The pirates pushed theirs together and cuddle up under their blankets, and soon enough, the quartet was asleep.

When Balthier awoke the next morning, he was unsurprised to find himself wrapped in Fran's arms. It took a little bit of work, but he managed to slip from her grasp and knelt by the water's edge, cupping his hands and splashing his face. Sufficiently awoken, he bought breakfast from a cheerful moogle, along with a teleport stone.

He muffled a snicker as he found Vaan spread-eagled on his bedroll, his blanket twisted up. Fran was slowly peering around, blinking sleepily in the early morning light, and Balthier woke her fully with a soft kiss that made her ears perk up. She munched on a piece of fruit as the others began to stir, and within minutes, the entire party was awake and eating.

"Hey, I was wondering…" Vaan spoke up around a mouthful of fruit. "What was that thing you all did yesterday? Where the world went black and you started glowing."

"Oh, that?" Balthier wondered. "It's called 'Quickening'. People who use the Mist often find themselves growing a connection between themselves and it, and at certain levels, they develop Quickenings. It's where the connection to the Mist is strong enough that you can almost impose your will on reality, slowing time to a crawl. But anyone will only ever have three variants, and they are very tiring. For instance, you saw mine yesterday. I have the potential for two more, but what you saw is how that specific Quickening will always be, even if I were to wield a spear or an axe. The first time you use the technique, it's locked into that form."

The thief hummed in thought. "So, if I practice my spells more, I'll develop a Quickening?"

"Not necessarily." Basch interjected. "I, myself, only know the basic Cure and Thunder, yet I am capable of my own Quickening. It's more a question of knowledge, I think. I developed my first after I mastered Greatsword techniques and handling. It's entirely possible you will develop your own if you learn many Technicks or Protection magic."

"Okay." Vaan nodded understandingly. "I just have to learn, then. Sounds fun." He grumbled, before perking up. "After the quick-things, there were all of these motes floating around that came together. What was that?"

Fran spoke up this time. "Those are called Concurrences." She explained calmly. "When multiple Quickenings are used, one after the other, it excites the Mist. When it is excited in specific orders, the energies released combine to create powerful magicks like the miniature sun you saw yesterday."

The conversation died, and the party returned their bedrolls and gathered around the floating, sparkling teleporter stone. Balthier touched his purchase to it, clearly announcing, "Rabanastre." They were engulfed in light and a rush of wind, and they felt like they were being hurled through the air.

A second later, they were at the Rabanastre's East Gate, standing as if they hadn't moved a single inch. Pulling away, the party strode near the gate, which was thankfully bereft of Imperials. "I thank you." Basch said quietly. "Not just for freeing me, but for believing my story."

"Be careful here." Balthier warned. "To them, you're still a traitor. I would avoid crowds."

The former soldier nodded in agreement, before turning to Vaan. "Fates will, we will meet again, Vaan. I would pay my respects to your brother." He shook his head with a sigh. "The resistance will surely find me soon, and it would not do to keep them waiting."

Basch bowed shortly before making his leave. Balthier patted Vaan on the shoulder. "You should lie low for a bit, being a fugitive and all."

The thief smirked. "Most people in Rabanastre know me as a thief, and I know how to get around without drawing attention."

"Good man." The pirate said with smile, making to leave before Vaan spoke up.

"What about the stone?"

Balthier arched an eyebrow in question. "What about it? I think you've more than earned it." What went unsaid was that he had picked it off the thief this morning, but even holding the golden stone created a pit of unease in his stomach. "Are you offering?"

Vaan huffed. "No, it's mine."

"They why did you offer?" He asked rhetorically. "Our regards to lady friend. Remind her to give my ring back, if you would."

Fran nodded to the thief. "We stay in Rabanastre for awhile. If you seek help or simply company, you may find us in the Sandsea." She left Vaan behind and joined her partner, who straightened his cuffs and looked at her with a smirk.

"Well, my dear, I don't know about you, but after spending a night in a sewer, a day in a dungeon and an afternoon unground, I could use a drink. And a proper bath."

She took his offered arm, smiling slightly. "We are in agreement, then."

…

…

…

 **A/N: So yeah, that's chapter three. As you can see, Quickenings and Concurrences will be used within the story, along with potions and Phoenix Down. I hate it when a story where things like potions and spells are part of the game and acknowledged in-universe, but stories leave them out because it makes them 'unrealistic'. It's called fiction for a reason. That would be like a Destiny story where the Ghost** _ **can't**_ **resurrect someone, despite it being one of the things that makes the Guardians so fearsome, even having a sect of thanatonauts who kills themselves daily to see what happens and why they remember.**

 **It's dumb and I'm not doing it. They're going to present in the story, deal with it.**

 **And despite the scene with Fran and Balthier, pairings are still up in the air. Seriously. I'll have to think of them more seriously later, but only when the full party has been gathered.**

 **Also, the party as it is, is more cordial with each other, which should set the tone for future interactions between them.**

 **I hope you enjoyed it and, as always, if you did, leave a review and let me know what liked and even things you didn't.**

 **Stay Awesome.**

 **~Soleneus**

 **P.S.: The shitty relationships in so many goddamn stories: What the hell is with all the stories where the main character gets into a relationship with a girl and they all of a sudden become domineering? Like, where the girl treats the guy like a dog that will hump everything if it slips the leash for a second? Where they brow-beat the guy into doing things they don't want to do, and even scare the guy so much he hides behind someone else?**

 **That's not a healthy relationship, that's an abusive one. And frankly, it's insulting. Relationships are supposed to be partnerships, not where one person is the boss. Boyfriend/Girlfriend dynamic is supposed to be interdependent, equality. Because a boss doesn't have equals, they have underlings.**

 **Stay Healthy.**

 **~still Soleneus**


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